


all we can do is keep breathing

by thealmightyavocado



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Coming of Age, Doctor Louis, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Greys Anatomy inspired, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreak, M/M, Mutual Pinning, Sadness, Slow Burn, also read my authors note for more detail, emotional (highly), even more angst, father harry, like the slowest of slow burns im sorry, medical AU, medical traumas, set in seattle but h&l are still british
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-14 20:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 310,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealmightyavocado/pseuds/thealmightyavocado
Summary: “Harry, I-I’m so sorry…” Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage way straight to Louis’ soul, it’s so hard, nearly impossible.That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself.But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase, he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly empty “I’m so sorry” that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn’t at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, hefeelsit.✚☤✚a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> hello loves! im back at it again with another heartbreaking angsty fic. basically anything i write that starts with the word “all” is not going to be the lightest read. but if you are willing id love for you to go on this journey with me! starting with a super loooong note about warnings and such:
> 
> this story is inspired by a lot of very real things, but id say it’s definitely from a very genuine, honest place. its close to my heart and i think it’s probably the most challenging thing ive ever written emotionally. ive had the overall concept of it for awhile now and ive wrestled with it for quite some time so im finally just gonna do it.
> 
> ok so you know how in greys anatomy certain scenes are amplified by the music? the show is known for it and i think it truly makes the story feel more emotional. so because of that, im doing something new, that kind of forced me to break into a different element of writing. im lining this fic with a soundtrack so whenever you see this ♫ cute music note icon, that means there’s a track to go with that scene. the track might express an underlying opinion of one character or multiple characters at once or it may just enhance the emotional aspect of the scene in some way, but I’ll leave that up to you to decode. of course, there is not a song for every single scene because that would be way too much and I’m obviously not going to force you to listen to them while you read, especially since many people can’t read with noise, but it’s there for you if you like. 
> 
> for reference the POV switches from louis to harry often to get a full understanding of the story. You should be able to tell whose POV is whose, but for clarity’s sake ive indicated the switches as the scene markers. for louis: |☤| And for harry: |✚|
> 
> as for extra warnings, terminal medical illnesses and procedures are repeatedly described within a hospital setting. i tried to make it as accurate and real as possible and i have a degree in biomedical science and i work in a hospital but i definitely still could have made a mistake or two. there is also death in this story, but neither harry nor louis die, nor are either of them sick. there is heavy grief and mourning and depression and generally sad themes. word to the wise, no matter how light and normal it may seem at times throughout the story, do not get too comfortable because it most likely won’t stay that way. but at the same time, there are lighter parts in place to offset some of the heavy.
> 
> ok, I think that pretty much covers it, 500000 words later lol. As always feel free to come to me with any questions or concerns you might have, im always up for a chat! :)) [@avocadolouie](http://avocadolouie.tumblr.com)
> 
> i really ripped my own heart out for this one, i hope you’re able to not only enjoy it, but get something real out of it.
> 
> love you all!  
> lex. x.
> 
> **here is a spotify [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/039brm7pp6itxzvc1bie3keja/playlist/6HFn3tKnbySjIVlX2ltP68?si=2-UmG_bLQ4W5wxtxcn7eVA%22) for the entire fic  
> and there are also individual youtube playlists for each chapter. heres the youtube [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR0XAp0JTz0nOe7wo3nkZ6) for chapter one
> 
>  

_take my heart in your hands._  

||☤||

 

“Tomlinson! Rounds!”

A loud, hurried voice echoes down the hallway, jolting Louis awake instinctually. He sits straight up on the abandoned gurney he’d passed out on a few short hours ago, sleepily flipping his wrist to get a good view of his watch.

5:56 A.M.

Morning rounds start in four minutes. 

“Shit.” Louis huffs under his breath, hopping off the gurney in an instant as his groggy brain tries to catch up with his body. He hastily stuffs his arms into the sleeves of his white coat, bundling up all his crap and scattered charts and hightailing it down the empty hall. Whoever it was that gave him that timely wake up call is now long gone, bolting off to make sure they’re on time. Such is the life of an intern.

Louis considers taking the elevators, but they always take eons to queue up and he will certainly be late by the time he even gets onto the lift. Which means he only has three minutes to somehow climb four fights of stairs from the basement, cross the east foyer, climb two more flights of stairs and make it to the surgical wing in time for rounds. 

Easy.

There have been closer calls. Times when Louis made it to rounds with only mere seconds to spare, but Louis is never late for rounds. Never. And although he’s come close more times than he can count, the price for selling his soul for a few minutes of sleep, he’s never _ever_ late. 

Louis makes his way across the hospital grounds, booking it as fast as his legs will carry him. He spots Niall across the foyer, moving just as quick as Louis. Out of all the surgical interns in their class at Seaside Seattle Medical Center, Louis and Niall are always the ones cutting it dangerously close.

“Morning champ.” Niall nods as Louis scurries to catch up to him, aligning their rushed strides.

“Hey Horan. You sleep here too?”

“I had too.” Niall sighs, taking in a massive gulp of his iced coffee. “I've been monitoring urine output from a whipple patient last night. I only ran out to get coffee. Got you a latte.”

“Ugh, bless you.” Louis sighs in thanks as he eagerly takes the warm cup, welcoming the sight of caffeine. “God, I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. You got me last time so I figured I’d return the favor.” Niall shrugs easily, offering a small smile. “Were you on-call last night? I didn’t see you on the floor.”

“Ohh…” Louis sighs heavily, recounting the lackluster events of his highly regrettable evening. “Nah, I had last night off so I went on a blind date—a _horrible_ , god-forsaken blind date. And you know I already hate blind dates on principle, they’re cringy and awkward and just…embarrassing. But, I dunno…I decided to give it a go because it’s been awhile since I attempted to date anyone and he seemed kinda cute or cute enough, so why the fuck not, right?”

“Right, I suppose.” Niall nods agreeably, still sipping on his drink.

“Not right. _Sooo_ not right.” Louis shakes his head, with wide eyes and another regretful sigh. Louis knew it was bad when his date happily informed him that he lived in his parent’s basement and he seemed to have no plans of ever moving out. _Ever_. Plus, he was so handsy, they’d known each other for all around 10 minutes and the man was already trying to feel Louis up in the cramped booth of the restaurant. And to make matters worse, the conversation between them was nearly nonexistent and all the guy wanted to talk about was his extremely invested hobby of bird watching—which, what the fuck? Bird watching, seriously? Louis was out of there, faking an emergent page to the hospital before they even placed their dinner order. “Next time I go in search of love and validation, do me a favor and stop me, yeah?”

Niall laughs full on. “Will do. Who has time to date anyway?”

“Exactly.” Louis agrees wholeheartedly. “I ended up bailing and just coming back to the hospital. I was studying up for Dr. Carmichael’s spinal diversion case because I want to be ready just in case she lets me scrub in, but then I passed out on the lower level. Literally just woke up three minutes ago.”

“That’s gotta be a new record, Tommo.”

“Such is life apparently. I like to live on the edge.” Louis smirks.

They approach the nurses’ station at the final moments of 5:59. As usual, Payne and Malik are bickering amongst each other next to the other interns in their surgical class, so Niall and Louis easily join them.

“Morning scrubs. Let’s get to it.” Steve rolls by out of literally nowhere, not stopping or waiting for his interns to follow behind him with his usual clipboard in hand.

Aoki is Louis’ resident, as well as the Chief Resident. He’s a pretty cool guy, always laughing and full of energy, but he’s also strict to a certain degree, commanding instant respect. Steve’s got a bit of a mischievous streak in him and definitely knows how to cut loose, but when it comes to medicine he is utterly no nonsense. He’s impossibly tough on all his interns, but he also has the biggest heart Louis has ever seen in a physician. He just has a way with people, easily making him the best, most likable resident.

The interns all scamper after Steve as they begin morning rounds about the surgical floor. As interns, they are expected to stay informed as to their patient’s varying conditions overnight and to be certain of that, their resident calls on each of them to orally present their patient’s chart.

“Good morning, Mr. Griffin.” Steve smiles cheerfully as he and his interns enter the first patient room. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Tired.” The older man, grumbles from his hospital bed, scowling as he eyes the young doctors filling his room. “You all come in here so goddamn early everyday.”

“I know, I apologize, Mr. Griffin. But this is a teaching hospital and we will be out of your hair just as soon as we assess your current condition. Payne.” Steve calls promptly, turning towards the intern in question. “Present the case.”

“Um—right, yes of course, Dr. Aoki.” Liam clears his throat, stepping forward before proceeding to easily riddle off the patient’s chart by memory. He answers all of Steve’s questions about his patient without a hitch and Steve gives Liam his assignment for the morning and they move on to the next patient room.

It goes on like that as they round the wing, checking up on all the in-patient post-op as well as pre-op rooms with Steve handing out orders like a drill sergeant.

“Well Mrs. Hahn, it looks like we are just waiting for those kidney stones to pass.” Steve announces, scribbling something onto her chart before turning to Niall. “Horan, I want you to continue monitoring her urine output and sodium levels around the clock.”

“Ugh, not more urine output.” Niall groans under his breath, pulling a face as he lowers his head. “God…spare me.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, never missing a thing. “What was that, Dr. Horan?”

“Nothing.” Niall stands up straighter, returning his face to neutral. “I’ll get right on that, sir. Happy to do it.”

Louis snickers a bit under his breath and Niall shoves him as they leave the patient room. Following behind Steve, they move on to the last patient on the rounds presentation for this morning.

“Tomlinson, I understand you are assigned to this case with Dr. Carmichael.” Steve says, looking to Louis.

“Yes, sir.” Louis nods, moving forward.

“Alright then. Present the case, please.”

“Gemma Styles.” Louis starts from memory. “27-year-old female diagnosed with a mixed glioma composed of an anaplastic astrocytoma and a high-grade oligodendroglioma. As she is also 21 weeks pregnant, all radiation and chemo treatments have been restricted. We are monitoring her vitals and brain activity for the possible appearance of further dividing cells in her temporal lobe. Her latest biopsy showed no further change as of this morning.”

“Very good.” Steve commends, nodding towards Louis. “And the baby?”

“The baby is in good health overall—all vital signs present normally and fetal development is progressing well.” Louis answers promptly.

“Good.” Steve repeats, looking down at Gemma’s chart. “Gemma, how are you feeling? Any headaches? Dizziness?”

“I’m alright, I think. A little nauseated.” Gemma smiles widely with a little shrug. “Nothing I’m not used to by now. However, it would be nice if I could get a few extra pillows? My back is killing me, it’s almost like I’m pregnant or something?” She jokes dumbly.

Steve chuckles, smiling back at her. “I’ll have someone get right on that for you.”

The doctors file out of the room, but Louis lags behind as he always does when it comes to this patient. His favorite patient.

“You’re falling behind today.” Gemma says, eyeing Louis closely. “Fun night last night?” 

Over the months that Gemma has been emitted to SSMC, she and Louis have developed a very close friendship. She was transferred in from a different hospital on Louis’ very first week as an intern, scared shitless and utterly overwhelmed. They were oddly drawn to each other from the start, both from different parts of England, in a new city without any friends or family. They clicked almost instantly, finding more and more in common every day. Louis considers her the very first real friend he made since moving back to Seattle.

“If by ‘fun night’ you mean getting my ass groped by some barely attractive, ridiculously creepy guy. Then yes, I had _loads_ of fun.” Louis deadpans, rolling his eyes. “And I am not falling behind, I didn’t even mess up. I know your chart backwards and forwards.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever…but back to this date you had—”

“I told you it was not a date!” Louis protests again. “I left before it could have ever been considered a real date anyways.”

“Oh, give me the details, Lou! _Please_!” Gemma begs, sitting up in her bed. “I’m trapped in this hospital room, basically tied down to this bed, the least you could do is tell a poor girl a hot story.”

“First of all, you are not tied down.” 

Gemma lifts both of her arms, riddled with various tubes and monitors. “The chains that bind me.” 

“Well, it’s definitely _not_ a hot story.” Louis denies adamantly. “Quite the contrary, I assure you.”

“Tomlinson! Get over here!” Steve calls abruptly from the nurses’ station outside.

“Yes, right—sorry! Coming!” Louis scrambles towards the door. “See, you’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“But…my story!” Gemma pouts.

“There is no story!” Louis laughs as he heads out the door. “I’ll see you later.”

 

||☤||

 

True to his promise, Louis is back in Gemma’s room by the end of the day, folded up on the loveseat sized sofa in her room. As usual, he has a mountain of paperwork and charts to tackle and it’s become a habit for him to do his charting in her room. Louis tells Gemma it’s because she has decorated her hospital room the best and it feels really homey. But really Louis just adores Gemma and her company and he’d much rather hang out with her than go home to his empty, lonely house.

From her hospital bed, which she covered in lavender sheets and blush pillows, Gemma randomly lets out a long, heavy sigh.

Louis flicks his gaze up from the chart he’s noting, pausing his pen as he waits for Gemma to follow up her sigh with a statement as she usually does. But when she doesn’t, Louis shrugs a little and goes back to his work.

A few moments pass but then Gemma is sighing once again, melodramatic and ridiculously loud, practically begging for attention.

“You’re…in a mood today...” Louis comments slowly, peeking up again.

“I am not.” Gemma answers defensively, frowning a bit as she picks at her nails.

“Oh, you definitely are.” Louis smiles at her knowingly. “But to be fair, you have every right to blame it on the pregnancy hormones or the tumor or something.”

“I seem to have so many free passes to choose from when it comes to my varying temperament these days.” Gemma smiles back at Louis, before sighing again and shaking her head. “But, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Ok…” Louis nods slowly, not quite believing her. He lowers his head back down to his work, sensing that this conversation is most likely far from over.

And Louis is proven right in only a manner of minutes as Gemma throws her head back and sighs heavily for the umpteenth time today.

“Oh for god’s sake, just say it, Gemma!” Louis insists, setting his notes completely aside to give her his full attention. “What’s bothering you?”

Gemma bites on her inner cheek anxiously, while still picking at her chipping nail polish. She meets Louis’ eyes sheepishly. “My brother is coming.”

“You called him?” Louis raises an eyebrow.

Gemma nods slowly, tugging her lip through her teeth.

“Finally.” Louis says, sounding relieved. And he is; Gemma has been all alone here for months, flat out refusing to reach out to her younger brother. It’s part of the reason she and Louis have become so close, so quickly. She’s come to rely on him in the way she would her own brother.

“Yeah, yeah—I mean, you kept pressuring me to do it.”

“You know I wasn’t trying to pressure you. It’s just that he’s the only family you have and I really think he should know what’s going on with you.”

“He knows I’m sick, but he doesn’t know how bad it’s gotten...and he definitely doesn’t know about this…” Gemma points down to her 5-month pregnancy bump.

“How do you think he’s going to take it?” Louis wonders, moving to perch himself on the edge of her bed.

“Ugh god— _horribly_.” Gemma groans, covering her face with her hands. “And in all honesty, I probably still wouldn’t even tell him if it wasn’t for…”

Louis drops his head, nodding in understanding without her needing to finish.

Gemma is a high risk patient on all accounts, her prognosis has been deemed terminal by every professional opinion. Neurosurgeons and oncologists and neurologists alike, all saying there isn’t much they can do for her. And because of the baby growing inside her, her condition is likely to worsen quicker, especially without the chemotherapy and radiation treatments needed to keep her brain tumors at bay. That’s why Louis, as well as her primary doctors have been pushing for Gemma to reach out to her family, she needs the support, now more than ever.

“It’s just…he worries so much, about everything, you know? He has the biggest heart and—I’m afraid it’ll be too much for him…seeing me like this, hearing that we don’t have much time together…” Gemma’s voice falls quiet. “We’re so close—we’ve always been inseparable. It’s just us, we don’t have parents or family—just me and him. I’m all the family he has left and I...I—he’ll be heartbroken and I can’t bear to see that. I feel like I’ve been lying to him this whole time and that kills me, but I…I dunno...I guess I just wanted to spare him the pain. I’ve made peace with my condition, I’ve had time to understand it a bit more, but Harry…he won’t…he won’t get it.”

“Would you rather he found out about it without you having the chance to tell him?” Louis asks.

She shakes her head gradually, head bowed towards her lap. Louis can tell just how hard this is for her; she talks about Harry all the time. There’s no one who means more to her than her brother and it’s easy to see that her heart is in the right place, only wanting to protect him. But she can’t go through this alone anymore. Not when she has someone who loves her and deserves to know the truth.

“I know it’s a hard conversation to have, but it’s better if he hears it from you.” Louis advises, reaching to give Gemma’s hand a comforting squeeze.

“I know, I know…you’re right.” Gemma nods, still looking impossibly overwhelmed and nervous. “But I don’t even know how to properly tell him. How does anyone start a conversation like that?”

“Well how about we practice, yeah?” Louis offers, wanting to be helpful. “I’ll be Harry, and you be you. Obviously.”

Gemma tilts her head and smiles at him fondly. “You’re so sweet, Lou. But that’ll never work.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m shit at pretending and you already know everything so it’s easy to talk about it with you. Thanks for offering though.”

“You’re really sure you don’t want to give it a go?” Louis tries again, leaning forward a bit. “I’m up for it. I bet I can play a very convincing Harry.”

Gemma laughs, shaking her head. “You’ve never met him.”

“What’s that got to do with it?” Louis scoffs with a shrug. “From how you’ve described him, I’m picturing Harry as a taller, prettier, and far more flirty guy version of you with more hair and a better sense of humor.”

“Oh my god Louis, you absolute wanker!” Gemma cackles in surprise. “He may have better hair, I’ll give him that…but no matter what he tells you, he’s not funny.” She says in all seriousness. “And besides, you _love_ my sense of humor.”

“I do.” Louis grins slowly, holding onto her hand a little tighter. “Gemma, I care about you, you know? Not just as some kid doctor assigned to your case—but really, I…I care. And I’m glad your brother is coming for you, you deserve to have more people in your corner.”

“Don’t get sappy on me now, Tomlinson.” Gemma shakes her head at him, but Louis can tell by her eyes that it means a lot to her. “I’m emotional enough as it is. You know how easy it is for me to start crying nowadays…and also how hard it is to stop.”

“Well we both know exactly how that goes, you’ll just blame it on your raging pregnancy hormones anyway.”

“Or my tumor.” Gemma reminds. “I told you I’ve got loads of free passes.”

 

||✚||

 

Harry came straight from the airport, catching a cab to the hospital. He hasn’t seen Gemma all year because he’s been backpacking his way through Europe and most recently France, which he absolutely adored. He loved the culture and the language, he adored the people and the food, but the second Harry got that call from Gemma, he was on a plane headed to Seattle.

Gemma didn’t say much on the phone, only that she’d been hospitalized for the moment, but Harry isn’t worried—or at least, he is trying not to be. He and Gemma were always invincible growing up, them against the world. They didn’t have the easiest childhood, bouncing around the foster care system practically their whole lives.

Harry always claims he never would have turned out as good as he did if it wasn’t for Gemma. She likes to say the same thing about him, but Harry doesn’t think it’s nearly as true. She’s the stronger one, the older one, the responsible one, she never gives up and it always seems like nothing could ever bring her down. Harry admires his sister for so many countless reasons, he’s proud of her without limit and despite whatever may be going on with her, he’s just so happy to get to see her.

“Gems!” Harry shouts excitedly, standing under the doorway to her hospital room. He drops his bags down and stretches his arms out wide.

“Get over here you big oaf!” Gemma smiles happily, perched up on the bed.

“Oh my god, you’re huge…” Harry blurts as he gets closer to her bed, noticing the prominent bump of her swollen belly. “Wait—oh my god? You’re _huge?”_

“Surprise…” Gemma smiles a little awkwardly, making mini jazz hands in an attempt to be cheerful. 

“Gemma?” Harry frowns in total confusion, brows furrowed as he looks down at her surprise baby bump. His instinctual reaction is to be overly ecstatic about something like this, after all Harry deeply adores babies and there’s nothing better than finding out he’s going to be an uncle. But under the circumstances and considering where they are right now, Harry has a sense that there’s more to the story. “But…you said on the phone that you were really sick? Are you better?”

Gemma bites her bottom lip, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “Um…no…worse actually but—”

“Worse…” Harry worries, letting out a heavy stream of air as any traces of humor and eagerness fade from his features. “What…what do you mean worse, Gem? What’s going on with you?”

“How was Bordeaux?” Gemma evades, shifting the subject as best she can with a false chipper tone. She plasters a smile on her face and Harry’s heart sinks. If she doesn’t want him to know, he knows it must be bad. “I’ve been dying to hear all about your trip. The states are great, but I miss home sometimes.”

“It’s serious, isn’t it?” Harry whispers, not at all interested in small talk. He needs to know what’s going on.

“Erm…we’ll have plenty of time to talk about that…” Gemma avoids again, still trying to smile for him. “So about Bordeaux, I bet the wine was incredible—”

“Who gives a fuck about the wine in Bordeaux!” Harry bursts uncontrollably, voice raised and echoing throughout the small room. He doesn’t know where that came from, he never yells at Gemma—never. But there’s a heavy anxiousness falling over him, the uncertainty causing him to panic, compelling him to yell and scream until he gets the answers he doesn’t know if he is ready to hear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to yell, Gems. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I want you to be real with me. What’s going on?”

Gemma turns her head and avoids his eyes and Harry knows that she has never been good at talking about the hard things. Given their less than normal childhood, they’ve both been through some pretty rough times and things never seemed to go according to plan. But Gemma has always tried her best to shelter and protect Harry, bearing the brunt weight of it herself before ever even thinking about sharing it with Harry. Harry both loves and hates her for it.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just pull one of those doctors in here and—”

“God, no. Don’t do that, they’ll scare you to bits.” Gemma sighs, scoots over a little on the hospital bed, patting on the now empty side. “Fine. Sit down, I’ll tell you.”

Harry silently crawls onto the bed with his sister, trying to somehow steel himself up for what she is about to tell him. His mind runs rampant with a million and one possibilities, each one worse than the last and he’s already starting to feel nauseous with anxiety.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4L7INUryyVM&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR0XAp0JTz0nOe7wo3nkZ6&index=1)

Gemma tucks herself against Harry’s chest, as she always tends to do. Except this time, it takes a little longer to adjust on account of her impeding bump. Harry wraps his arm around her, not wasting any time in dropping his cheek down to rest atop her head. He missed this, he missed her. God, how he wishes this was how it usually is, not in a hospital, not with looming disaster threatening to choke him.

“Ok…so…I have this thing called a mixed glioma…” Gemma starts, voice quiet and faint as though she doesn’t want to speak the words into reality any more than they already are. She hugs Harry even closer, arms squeezed around his middle as she continues to force herself to talk. “And there are some really big, scary words that go along with that to describe it, but basically it’s just brain cancer.”

Harry’s entire body stiffens instantly as he sucks in a sharp breath. Just brain cancer. _Just_ brain cancer. _Just_. There is nothing just about brain cancer. It’s all-consuming, all-encompassing, rooted in the very place that stores and harbors all that makes a person who they are. Memories, emotions, feelings, morals, all locked away in one seemingly safe place, seemingly ideal place. But if that place is compromised, if that place is strategically targeted, the body no longer has control, slave to a foreign conglomerate of sick, hungry cells raging war, tearing at the brain until there is nothing left to salvage.

“Gemma…” Harry exhales gravely, already feeling a sting beneath his eyes.

“Ok, but hear me out—please, H.” Gemma begs softly, reaching to hold one of his hands. “Please don’t say anything until I finish explaining, it’s hard enough as it is.”

Harry tries to nod his head, holding back all his ranging emotions.

“When I told you about it before it wasn’t as serious, you know? I was dizzy all time with god-awful headaches—I thought I had a really bad flu or something. But then I came in and they found just a few tiny dots on some lobe of my brain and since they were so small the doctors were really hopeful about it. They had a huge plan with multiple steps and they said everything would be fine, right. Everything was supposed to be _fine_. But then it wasn’t. There was always more—more tumors, more cancer, different types…and each time it seemed to be even bigger and in an even harder place to treat in my brain. They said that…um…” Gemma pauses for a long while, tugging her bottom lip through her teeth. “They said I’d probably only have a year to live.”

_this can’t be happening_

Harry pales completely, losing all the fading color he had left in his face. His hands start shaking uncontrollably, even though Gemma is still holding on tightly. Emotions are running though him madly, he feels a deep sadness at the pit of his core, anger raging hot in his veins, but also, more than any other identifiable emotion, Harry feels a tremendous _fear_. Fear of the unacceptable and unimaginable notion of not having his sister in a year's time.

“...and they told me that ten months ago...” Gemma adds finally, voice falling quiet.

And those are the words that cause Harry to physically break, burning tears finally falling silently from where they lined his eyes. He opens his mouth slowly to speak, shaking his head without understanding. “Gem…h-how could you…how could you hide this from me for this long? How c-could you let me fuck off across Europe? While y-you were…while you _are…”_

Harry can’t even finish that sentence. He refuses to give any sort of ground to the concept of his sister, his very best friend, dying.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.” Gemma buries her head even deeper against her brother’s chest. “I wanted to tell you, really I did. We never keep anything from each other, but I…I…”

“You should have told me…” Harry utters in a whisper, head hung. “I didn’t know it was this bad—I...I would have been here at your side, day and night. I would drop everything for you…you know that.”

Gemma sits up, cupping her palm to Harry’s cheek. “I know H, I know you would have. But you’re only 24, you’re young and healthy…you should be out living your life and doing things and seeing the world…not waiting around and worrying over me.”

Harry lifts his head to meet her eyes, a few tears falling in the process. “You’re a huge part of my life—you are my life.” And he means it, Gemma is the most important person in his life, he would do anything for her.

“God. That look.” Gemma tilts her head, moving to hold both of her hands to Harry’s face as she reads his terrified expression. “That look on your face right now…that’s why I kept putting off telling you for so long. I can’t bear to see you hurting, H. Especially over me. I hate it.”

Harry’s few soundless tears steadily begin to turn into a heavy stream of tears, sobs escaping his throat as his shoulders start to shake.  

“Oh Harry.” Gemma pulls him in, hugging he brother tightly as she tries to console him the best she can.

Harry goes easily into her embrace, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to calm himself down. He doesn’t understand how any of this could have happened, his mind is overwhelmed with never-ending questions, without knowing where to begin. “But…how did you get pregnant?”

“How does anyone ever get pregnant?” Gemma laughs without any humor in her voice. “I had sex, duh.”

“Don’t make jokes…please I can’t—” Harry’s voice breaks and he closes his eyes again for a moment before standing up from the bed to pace back and forth across the room. He just can’t wrap his mind around this, it’s all so uncharacteristic of how he knows his sister to be. “Gemma, what were thinking? I can’t believe—”

“It was stupid, ok? I know it was stupid, I don’t need you to lecture me…I know what I did. But I…I just wanted to be normal—to feel normal again, to feel ok. Just once more, just for a little while, you know? It sucks, all of this fucking sucks, Harry. To know that your life is being cut short and having to watch it happen right before your eyes…that everything you do could very well be the last time you ever do it—it _sucks_.” Gemma sighs emotionally, tears welling up under her eyes.

“And I was so angry—god, you have no idea how angry—everything felt so unfair...I worked so hard to get here…I put everything into becoming an engineer and being the best and it suddenly felt like it was all for nothing and I was pissed and…yeah, I know I probably should have called you.” She swipes at her eyes as she glances up at Harry. “That probably would have been a fucking brilliant time to be honest with you about everything…”

“But instead I went out and I got nearly black out drunk and I met a guy at a bar and he was cute and really nice and he didn’t look at me like I was already dead, he didn’t treat me like a cancer patient made of fucking glass, so I just said what the hell, why not?” Gemma shrugs to herself, rubbing at the tears trickling down her cheeks. “To this day I don’t even know his full name…but you know what? We had a really great night and I don’t regret a thing. And when I found out I was pregnant…I dunno...I thought maybe it could be my miracle. Maybe it could be my small chance at happy, the one little mark I leave on the world.”

Harry feels like he’s being held underwater by force. Gasping for air, begging for air, but finding no relief no matter how many times he tries to breathe in. “Why…why would you go along with the pregnancy? Didn’t they advise you not to? Didn’t your doctors tell you how fucking stupid that is—”

“Yes, of course they did—over and over and over again, but I don’t care! They’ve told me from the beginning that it wouldn’t be wise to carry to term, that my body couldn’t take that much strain and that I’d have to stop all treatment for the baby’s sake but…I don’t care. Harry, I want to _glow_.” Gemma gushes fervently, smiling through her still falling tears as she wraps her arms around the bump of her stomach. “I want to get fatter, not thinner. I want to feel happy and alive for as long as I have left. I _want_ this baby. And maybe that makes me selfish, but this baby growing inside me is my miracle. And with every new day I’m given, this child has brought more joy to my life than ever before. It’s a peace, and a happiness and I would never trade that. There is so much ugliness growing in my body—in my brain…sucking all the life I have left, but for once all I can feel is the beauty and new life growing along with it.”

Harry can’t find the words, only able to gape at his sister as saltwater pours from the ducts of his sad eyes. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can take; he can hardly process any of what he’s just heard.

“H, you have to promise you’ll take care of my baby for me if something happens to me.” Gemma cries, breaking down completely. “I know it’s a lot to ask and I know it’s more than you ever expected walking in here today and I’m sorry—I’m so s-sorry, Harry. I didn’t go about this r-right…I know that, but I…” Her voice fades off and she tearfully meets his eyes once more, appearing to refocus her thoughts. “After the baby is born, my doctors are going to try another procedure…but they don’t know if it’ll work—it’s risky and…and I just...I need you to promise me, Harry. Promise that no matter what happens to me, you’ll be there for my baby. It has to be you, H. I need you to do this for me—you can’t let her end up in the system like we did. You have to take her.”

Harry just stares at her with wide, teary eyes, breathing deep and ragged. It doesn’t feel real—nothing feels _real._

“Say something, Harry please…”

“What do you want me to say, Gemma? What the fuck do you want me to say? I…” Harry shakes his head weakly, feeling defeated in every way. The anger is gradually setting in as the initial shock begins to wear off. “Not only did you decide to hide all this from me, but now you are making plans for your death. And you what? Want me to tell you congratulations on the baby that is literally killing you? Just expect me to happily go along with it? Be happy for you and your pregnancy? Fuck that.”

“Harry—”

“No, Gemma! No! I write to you all the time. We text and call all the time, and not once did you think to mention any of this to me? You kept telling me you were fine and there was not a goddamn thing to worry about. You told me till you were blue in the face that your treatment wasn’t serious, but that it was working and you were _ok_.” Harry says frantically, voice laced with hurt. “You’ve been lying to me and you wait till it’s gotten so bad that your doctors practically beg you to call someone. You should have told me…I would have been here—I…I would have never left your side! I would—”

“I know that and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you!” Gemma interrupts loudly.

Harry blinks back in angered confusion, brows pulled together with hurt laced all throughout his expression.

“I’ve had so many surgeries Harry, so many surgeries and treatments and plans and… I’m tired. I’m so _tired, t_ his is exhausting. I have a 6% survival rate, I have a better chance of surviving a plane crash than of walking out of this hospital tumor free.” Gemma holds his gaze as she talks. “And I’ve finally started to make peace with that. I know it’s hard to hear and I know everything in you wants to find some trace of hope in this, I know I’ve been there. I get it, believe me, I do. But please Harry…” She tilts her head at him, eyes still rimmed with tears. “Please try to understand for me...”

Harry still can’t say anything, his emotions are so scattered, it’s hard to even register them individually anymore. He’s furious, fucking pissed. But he’s also hurt, so deeply hurt to think of all his sister has been going through all by herself this entire time. Gemma is too strong for her own good sometimes, and Harry’s heart is breaking because of it.

“Harry, please. I’m so sorry, I know you’re angry with me—”

“Angry? No, Gems…angry doesn’t even begin to cover it…” Harry whispers weakly, voice hardly carrying any sound at all. He can’t stay in this room any longer, he needs to think, he needs process, he needs to _breathe_.

The four walls of this hospital room feel like they are closing in on him, suffocating him. So Harry walks out of Gemma’s room without another word, not knowing where he is going, but knowing he can’t stop. He winds his way around the hospital halls, navigating down flights of stairs as he takes his steps two at a time. He focuses on the rhythm of his boots hitting the linoleum floor, zones in on the _click clack, click clack_ of his heel clinking against the tile. Anything to distract his mind, anything to keep him standing upright.

_just make it outside, just make it outside_

Harry pushes through the first exit door he sees, welcoming the rush of cool air slamming against his ruddy face. The door leads out towards a long breezeway of space between two hospital buildings, convenient benches and tables line the area as medical staff busily pass between one building to the other.

No longer able to safely rely on his own to feet, Harry drops himself down on one of the empty benches, resting his elbows on his knees to cradle his head. He tries to take in the fresh Seattle air to his lungs, tries to calm down his heart that hasn’t stopped racing since he first set foot in this hospital, but nothing seems to be working. He hasn’t started crying again yet, but he can feel it coming, he can feel the rush of heavy emotion building at the back of his throat, fighting to erupt from within him. Harry squeezes his eyes shut, fingernails digging almost painfully against the scalp of his head as he curls against himself.

“You must be Harry.”

Harry doesn’t answer, doesn’t even lift his head. He doesn’t have the energy, nor the strength. Not physically. Not mentally. Not emotionally. Not at all.

“Gemma’s brother, right? That’s you?”

Harry knows how rude he probably looks right now, but he can’t help any of that. All he can do is sit on this bench, hunched over himself and try not to have a total meltdown under the breezeway.

“I’m Louis—or um I mean, Dr. Tomlinson. It still feels weird to introduce myself as that, it sounds so… _official_ , you know? Actually, you wouldn’t know—obviously, because you aren’t me and you aren’t a new struggling intern barely surviving and fucking up at every turn. Right.”

Harry blinks up at Louis in confusion, meeting the brightest, clearest blue eyes he’s ever seen. But they’re not only bright, they’re kind and warm and Harry feels taken off guard by them.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Louis sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry it’s been a really long night. Let me start over. I’m Louis Tomlinson and I’m one of your sister’s doctors. Well sort of, I’m a bit more of a doctor on training wheels really. I’ve only been here a few months, still got no idea what I’m meant to be doing and _fuck_ , I’m rambling again—awful habit. I’m sorry…forget what I said. I’m Louis, that’s it. Fuck the rest, just Louis.”

Harry nods slowly, looking back down to his lap. He really doesn’t want to be rude or impolite, but he doesn’t have a single ounce of energy to put towards socializing or meeting anyone new, no matter how endearing and attractive he may be. From how shaky Harry’s hands are in his lap, he knows he is probably only two seconds away from completely breaking down and he’d rather not do it in front of a complete stranger who also happens to be one of Gemma’s doctors.

“Hey…are you alright?” Louis asks gently, moving to take a seat next to Harry on the long empty bench.

Of course Harry is not alright, what a fucking dumb question. Anyone with eyes can see he is literally falling apart. And Louis is a doctor for fucks sake, surely he can tell when someone is not alright and—no. Now Harry is being unnecessarily mean and even though he didn’t say any of it out loud, Harry already feels a bit guilty for even thinking it, especially when Louis is only trying to be nice to him.

“Is there um...anything I can get you? Coffee? Or food? Or…anything?” Louis tries again, sliding a tiny bit closer. “A hug maybe? We’ve only just met, so you don’t know, but I’ve been told I give a pretty amazing hug if you’re interested. No pressure though, of course, but I am putting it on the table if you need it.”

Harry’s face tugs into a small smile that he didn’t think he could ever manage right now. But this guy is so impossibly sweet and his eyes have such a calming nature about them, Harry could easily get lost in them. And maybe it’s because he’s emotional or maybe it’s because there is something about him that Harry finds comforting, but Harry decides that right now he would very much love a hug from a perfect stranger.

“It can’t hurt, right?” Louis smiles softly, seeming to practically read Harry’s mind somehow. He opens his arms in invitation, looking to Harry expectantly.

So Harry gives in and folds himself into Louis’ arms for a hug. And Louis is right, he does give amazing hugs, warm and snug. Harry feels oddly safe in his arms. Maybe that’s a skill all doctors have? Maybe it comes with the job? But Harry feels like he can trust him for some reason and before he knows it, he’s crying against Louis’ shoulder. Heavy sobs escaping his mouth as the tears flow relentlessly down his cheeks.

Louis rubs his back soothingly, not put off in the slightest by Harry crying all over him. Harry hasn’t even said two words to him, but that doesn’t seem to matter to Louis.

“I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry…” Harry pulls back a little, sniffling and trying to swipe at his eyes frequently enough to get them to stop leaking angrily. “God, how embarrassing…”

“No, it’s alright.” Louis says gently, pulling out a small packet of Kleenex from his lab coat, offering it to Harry easily. He keeps one arm held snug around Harry’s still quivering frame. “It’s best to just get it all out, yeah?”

Harry takes the tissue, rubbing his nose, but the tears flow on regardless and soon so do his tormented thoughts. “I…I would’ve been h-here. I would have dropped e-everything and been here since the beginning— _god_ I don’t k-know why she let it get this bad without c-calling me…she always tries to p-protect me…she always thinks s-she knows what’s b-best for me b-but…but she should have t-told me. I d-deserved to know…”

Louis nods silently, just listening as he continues to rub Harry’s back calmingly.

“And it’s not even just the cancer!” Harry bursts, letting it all off his chest as he cries harder. “She’s having a _baby_! A baby she may not even be here to raise! And…and…I can’t d-do this? I’m not ready to be a f-father? She’s—fuck—she’s so irresponsible to just dump this on me when…when she _knew_! She knew she c-couldn’t take care of this baby and she k-knew there was a high chance she’d have to leave them! And I want kids, I do…I a-always have…but not like this…n-not like—” Harry gets choked up again as he thinks about it. “Fuck, I want to scream. Do you ever just have that feeling bubbling up inside and you just—you want to scream. Because I fucking need to _scream_.”

“All the time.” Louis admits, nodding again. “I say go for it, yeah. I certainly won’t judge. I mean we’re already outside. You could scream bloody murder out here and I wouldn’t hold it against you, I’d probably join you if I’m honest. Got loads to scream about.”

Harry looks at him incredulously, unable to keep himself from oddly letting out a little chuckle. What is it about this guy that makes him feel so… _content_? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload all this on you. I don’t know why I’m saying all this to essentially a stranger.”

“To be fair, I kinda walked into it.” Louis shrugs with a small grin.

Harry smiles back before his expression morphs back to sudden exhaustion. “ _Fuck_ …” He groans, throwing his head back as he lets his eyes flutter closed. “I don’t even have anywhere to stay. I wasn’t expecting this—I flew straight over here as fast as I could to be with her and I don’t have a plan at all.”  

“Stay with me.” Louis offers right away, not thinking a thing of it.

“What?” Harry rights his head to meet Louis’ eyes in question.

“Erm…that came off rather creepy. Sorry about that. I promise I’m not a creep. I’m just a bit sleep deprived, yeah? But um I’ve got this huge house my grandmum left me and it’s just me.” Louis explains, starting to ramble again. “I’m hardly ever home, I practically live in this hospital so I’m not going to bother you or anything like that. And you seem like a nice guy—I’ve known your sister for quite a while now and she talks about you so much I kinda feel like I know you in a way, but um…I know you’re going through a lot right now, it’s the least I can do.” 

Harry just sits motionless looking to Louis in absolute disbelief with a puzzled frown on his face. Either Louis is really trying to stack up his random acts of kindness for the day or he is simply a genuinely good person. Regardless, Harry finds himself trusting his newfound acquaintance more and more.

Louis slips a key off his key ring and offers it willingly, not thinking twice. “Seriously, stay with me. It’s not a big deal.”

Harry looks down at the key placed in his palm, then lifts his head back up to Louis. “Do you make a habit of giving your keys out to random guys who’ve just cried all over you?”

“No, first time actually.” Louis laughs lightly, and he has such a beautiful little laugh paired with the softest smile Harry has ever laid eyes on. “But you seem like an all right guy and if you’re anything like your sister then I know I can trust you—sort of. Your sister is a bit mischievous, I’ve learned the hard way. Anyway, you’re probably exhausted from traveling and could use a shower so—”

“Are you implying I smell now?” Harry raises an eyebrow in teasing. He has a habit of resorting to flirtatious humor as a way to deflect away his feelings. And he kind of wants to hear Louis laugh again.

“No! Of course not!” Louis lets out another little laugh and once again there is something about his laugh that makes Harry forget his problems, even if only for a single fleeting second. “It was a general statement that most people like to shower after traveling, but if you don’t fall under that category of individuals then so be it.”

“A shower would be kinda nice I guess…” Harry thinks, smirking a bit.

“That’s all I’m saying.” Louis shrugs knowingly, smirking right back. He turns to face Harry full on. “Stay with me.” He says again, narrowing his eyes at Harry expectantly, probably trying to pressure Harry into saying yes, but there is absolutely nothing threatening about him. Harry almost wants to laugh and tell him that he’s just about as menacing as a teddy bear, but that’s not nearly as entertaining.

“Geez, ok fine. I’ll stay with you.” Harry sighs in exaggerated defeat, as if he ever really needed convincing.

“Good.” Louis nods contently, pulling out his phone from the front pocket of his scrubs. “Give me your number and I’ll text you my address.”

“Well, I’ll admit that is a very smooth way of getting my number.” Harry teases, taking Louis’ phone from his grasp to type in his phone number. “I’ll have to make note of that.”

“You’re impossible.” Louis grins, shaking his head. “You do realize I’m doing _you_ a favor.”

“Mhmm.” Harry hums, lips quirked into another grin.

“Wow, you really are a huge flirt.” Louis laughs in disbelief. “Gemma has told me stories but…wow.”

“What stories did she tell you?” Harry asks in surprise. That’s so like his sister to rattle off embarrassing stories about him while he isn’t there to defend himself.

Louis shrugs, feigning innocence. “I dunno, just stories…”

“Now I feel exposed and I don’t even know why.”

It’s Louis who smirks this time, sitting up straight. “Good. It gives me the upper hand. Especially since you’re about to be my roommate.”

Harry grins, unable to stop himself from liking Louis more and more. “It’ll just be a few nights, I promise. Until I get on my feet and everything.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, mate. I told you, it’s no big deal.” Louis insists, patting Harry’s knee lightly before standing to his feet. He pulls a beeping pager out of his pocket, sighing a bit as he looks over the page. “Well duty calls, I suppose. Raincheck on the screamfest?”

“Definitely. Thanks again…for you know, having a sit with me.” Harry says a little shyly. “It’s not everyday that a stranger sits down and lets me bear my entire soul on his shoulder.”

“My shoulder is always open if you need it.” Louis smiles genuinely as he starts walking backwards down the hall. “By the way, there’s essentially no food in my fridge, sorry. I’ll pick up things later, but make yourself at home.”

 

||☤||

 

So interestingly enough, Gemma’s brother is attractive after all. Not that Louis ever really assumed otherwise, he wasn’t expecting him to be hideous or anything…he just wasn’t expecting him to look like _that_. Gemma never mentioned that her baby brother was hot—why would she Louis supposes, that’d probably be weird.

They really do look alike though, Harry and Gemma. Both blessed with dimples and sweet, genuine smiles. It’s hard not to instantly fall for them just after one simple glance.

“Lou, you really didn’t have to let him stay with you.” Gemma says the moment Louis walks into her room to collect her vital stats.

Thinking back on it, Louis can’t quite believe that he just willingly offered his home to someone he only spoke to for fifteen minutes. Who does that? Not Louis, especially not Louis. Lately, Louis hardly ever puts himself out there in any way, it’s not always easy for him to open up to people, even in small ways.

“Oh hush, yes I did. He’s your brother, I’m not just gonna leave him out on the street.”

“Well thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m so worried about him.” Gemma sighs, as she paces about her hospital room. “And he’s so mad at me—I’ve never even seem him that upset with me before. He hardly even wanted to tell me that he was staying with you when he came back to get his bag. He didn’t look me in the eye. He probably hates me…”

“He does not hate you, and you know it. He’ll come around, just give him time.” Louis assures as he adjusts her IV drip. “It’s a lot to take in and I think he needs time to digest all of it.”

“Yeah…” Gemma sighs again, a deep frown forming on her brow.

“Stop worrying. It’s not a good look for you.” Louis teases, lightly pressing a thumb to her furrowed brow to smooth it.

Gemma laughs a little, playfully slapping Louis’ hand away. “Piss off.”

Louis grins, laughing along with her. “I’m serious, Gem. Stop worrying, he’ll be back. I’ll talk to him.”

“You will?” Gemma asks hopefully.

“Yeah, of course.” Louis promises. “Anything for you.”

 

||☤||

 

On Louis’ way home from the hospital, he stops to pick up a few things at the store. He buys the necessities that are tragically lacking from his barren refrigerator, but he also grabs a few extra things to hopefully cheer Harry up. He seemed so broken up when Louis met him earlier, it’d be good to help him take his mind off things, at least for a little while.

Louis finds Harry in the living room, hair still damp from the shower he must have just taken. “Settling in ok?”

“Oh my god, you scared me.” Harry startles, having not noticed Louis in the doorway. “But yeah—yes, I am. You have a really lovely home.”

“Thanks. I haven’t done much with it since I moved in, to be honest.” Louis admits, looking around as though he hasn’t thought much about it. “It’s pretty much exactly how my grandmother left it.”

“Well, it’s still lovely.”

Louis smiles appreciatively. “I see you finally got that shower. I like you better clean.”

“Me too.” Harry laughs a bit. “It’s amazing what a shower can do for your mood.”

“I told you.” Louis reminds, and Harry really does look a lot better than he did at the hospital.

“Need some help with that?” Harry nods his head towards Louis’ full hands.

Louis looks down at the bags, almost forgetting they were there. “Oh right, yeah—sure, thanks.”

Harry gets up and dutifully takes a few of the bags from Louis’ grasp, following him into the kitchen to help put the groceries away. Louis shows Harry where everything goes, getting him properly acquainted with the large kitchen.

“So do you just love ice cream or…?” Harry pulls out yet another pint of ice cream, frowning at Louis curiously.

“Oh, no…” Louis laughs awkwardly, shaking his head. “So I was standing in the frozen dessert aisle for a solid twenty minutes because I didn’t know if you were more of a chocolate or vanilla kind of guy or maybe even a fruity flavor type? So I got, like, ten different pints to be safe. I’m pretty close to starting my own ice cream bar at this point.”

“You bought me ice cream?” Harry wonders, already sounding touched as a smile spreads across his face.

“Not just ice cream.” Louis grins, pulling out two bottles of wine, one white, one red. “Ice cream and wine.”

“What…” Harry asks again, smile morphing into confusion.

“Ice cream and wine.” Louis repeats obviously. “Honest to god, it solves all problems, you’ll feel so much better.” He hands Harry a glass from the cabinet along with a spoon. “It’s my go-to thing when I’m having a shit day.”

Harry looks at him skeptically as he takes the glassware in his hand. “It just…it seems like an…odd mix…”

“You’re seriously telling me that you’ve never once tried this before?”

“No?” Harry shakes his head, smiling. “Why would I?”

“Right, well let’s make it a good night then, I suppose.” Louis decides, popping the cork out of one of the bottles. “I’m a bit of an expert at this now, I saw it on a cooking show once and I’ve been obsessed ever since. Basically, it’s all about flavor balance and composition.”

Harry leans himself against the kitchen counter, watching Louis closely. “Oh, is that right?”

“Mhmm, not every wine goes with every ice cream flavor.” Louis continues to explain. “They’ve got to have complimentary flavor nuances and there has to be a balance of sugar versus acidity for it to taste right.”

Harry blinks at Louis in surprise. “Are you sure you’re a doctor and not an undercover chef?”

“Oh, god no.” Louis laughs at even the notion. “I can’t cook to save my life. If this involved a stove, we’d be in trouble. You only need to understand flavors at a basic level to do this decently.”

“Alright then, give me an example.”

“Moscato and mint and chip are surprisingly really good together.” Louis tells him, thinking back on all his favorites. “Oh! One time I was feeling exceptionally shitty and I had a malbec with a raspberry chocolate chip and it was _so_ good.”

“That sounds so fucking nasty!” Harry scrunches up his face instantly, nearly laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“It’s really good, ok! Trust me! Just try it!” Louis encourages. “Red or white?”

“Red, but…what is that?” Harry looks at the bottle in Louis’ hand skeptically.

“What do you mean, it’s wine?” Louis frowns back, pouring Harry a very generous glass. 

“From?”

“Uh? I dunno?” Louis shrugs, looking over the label. “The corner shop down the street? It was on sale.”

Harry continues making a disgusted face, watching Louis closely as if he is trying to poison him. “Louis. It’s shit.”

“Well excuse me, we all didn’t just spend the past year in France wine tasting. Give me a break! You’re judging me so hard right now.”

“I know you could have done better than this.” Harry continues to mock him with a dimpled grin. “It’s bloody horrible. It tastes like sweaty socks.”

“And why exactly do you know what sweaty socks taste like?” Louis narrows his eyes in skepticism.

“For moments just like this when I need to draw accurate comparisons.” Harry claims, biting back a laugh.

“Ok, maybe it’s not the best by itself, but with the ice cream it’s not bad.” Louis defends, handing Harry his own pint of a chocolate based ice cream that should pair well. “And—I mean, for 5 bucks? You can’t beat that and I’m poor.”

Harry’s laugh finally escapes in full. “Aren’t doctors supposed to make a lot of money?”

“Yeah, I mean… _eventually_. Some far off day or so I’ve been led to believe.” Louis scoffs, pouring himself a glass of wine. “But really I’m just a poor intern who works like a slave to make pennies on the dollar and drown in student loans.”

And for whatever reason that only seems to make Harry laugh harder.

“Yeah, yeah, please laugh it up.” Louis encourages, holding up his wine glass like he doesn’t give a fuck. “Frankly the amount of money to my name is truly laughable so cheers, mate.”

“I think it’s just the way you say ‘I’m poor’ that really gets me.” Harry cackles in amusement. “It sounds so destitute.”

“That’s cuz it _is,_ man. I’m poor.” Louis pouts a little bit. “Very poor.”

“Stop.” Harry continues laughing, to the point where he looks like he may already be drunk. “Maybe it’s your accent that makes it so hilarious?”

“ _What_?” Louis squawks in surprise. “You do realize that you also have a very English accent?”

“But not like yours.” Harry smirks behind his wine glass. “What’s a Brit like you doing in Seattle, anyway?”

“Oh…um…well I moved to America when I was eighteen to live with my grandmother. I needed to uh…get away…” Louis evades purposely, breaking eye contact. “She supported me through school and everything and when she passed away two years back, she left me this house. So it’s just been me since I started residency a few months ago.”

“But, you don’t have any other family back home?” Harry questions, digging his spoon into his pint.

Louis looks down, breathing faltering slightly. He shakes his head out, blinking away the heavy truth. “Um no. I—I don’t...I don’t really have a family…anymore…”

Louis doesn’t talk about that. He doesn’t talk about his life before moving to America to live with his grandmother. If he doesn’t talk about it, he can almost remain in the reality that it never happened. He can almost trick himself into believing that nothing is missing and everything is fine.

But Harry doesn’t even press any further, he just nods in understanding. It’s like he just gets it. Most times people press on with incessant, badgering questions. Questions, questions, _questions_. But Harry just nods, own head hung in silence.

“I never really knew my parents, or at least I don’t remember them.” Harry says quietly, head still bowed. “Gemma does a little bit, but not much. They left us each money when they died, but we couldn’t access it until we got to be eighteen, so we were all over the system. We were lucky not to be separated as kids though, I don’t know what I would have done without my sister. Even when we got older and she decided to go to the states for school, I was lost without her. I guess I could have followed her, but I wanted to travel through Europe, thought it’d be a cool experience and all that. Now it seems like it was probably a mistake…”

“Why?” Louis frowns in question. “You didn’t know what was going on with her.”

“No, I didn’t know it was this bad. But I…I knew something was wrong…I knew it in my heart and I didn’t want it to be true, I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I guess I thought if I didn’t know, it couldn’t hurt me—it couldn’t be real or serious if I never knew about it…”  Harry admits, sighing heavily as he runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just that…the worst possible scenario always seems to happen in my life. I thought maybe for once…it wasn’t, you know? Maybe Gemma was just in a mood or feeling a lot of pressure from her job that was making her so anxious—not that she was potentially dying. I never thought…” His voice fades off as he takes in several deep breaths, refocusing himself. “But I knew it couldn’t have been good…I _knew_. And it’s probably part of why I’m so pissed about it.”

Louis has never understood anything more. When the cards dealt to him have never been played in his favor, he started to expect the worst. Always staying on edge, always preparing for the next blow. It’s why Louis never allows himself to get too comfortable.

 “Anyway, enough about that.” Harry decides, finishing off his glass and going for another. “This wine is still total shit by the way. I’m just in the mood to be tipsy.”

“It gets the job done, I told you.” Louis smirks, following suit with pouring himself a fresh glass. “And paired with ice cream it’s the best comfort.”

Harry sits cross-legged with a pint of chocolate raspberry ice cream in between his legs. “You aren’t wrong, I’ll give you that.”

“I know.” Louis nods with a grin.

“So your residency is for surgery right?” Harry wonders curiously.

“Mhmm.” Louis hums, lips locked around his spoon.

“So…that means you’re, like, super smart?”

“Uh…I don’t know? Some days, maybe…”

“So…that’s a yes.” Harry decides with a slow smile, letting his own spoon hang from his mouth. “What kind of surgeon do you want to be?”

“You know I didn’t quite know at first?” Louis reflects gradually. “I go back and forth most days, but I’m pretty sure I want to go for a neurosurgery fellowship. It’s complex and everything, but I dunno? It clicks—I understand it.”

“Super, _suuuper_ smart then.” Harry repeats, raising his eyebrows.

“Shut up.”

“I think you can do it.” Harry decides with one simple nod of his head.

“You’ve quite literally just met me. You can’t possibly know that.” Louis replies flatly.

“I know, but…I _know._ You’re going to do it, I have a feeling.” Harry smiles, shrugging a bit. “You’re going to be great one day, I’m sure of it.”

Louis looks at him incredulously, matching Harry’s dumb smile. “Well, thank you world traveler, Harry Styles, who I just met.”

“You’re very welcome, Louis Tomlinson, future neurosurgeon, who I also just met.” Harry grins slowly.

And although there are a million and one other things he should be doing, charting or studying and god knows what else, Louis stays put on the couch with Harry. He’s got his own pint of ice cream wedged between his legs and a wine glass full of shit wine in his hand, laughing and joking with Harry as though they’ve known each other their entire lives.

Louis learns a lot about Harry, like how he speaks French almost fluently and that he went to school in London and earned a degree in business and marketing. There’s no doubt that he’s smart, but he’s also so refreshingly different from most people Louis knows. He’s a bit weird and goofy, but in a cute kind of way, so much so that Louis feels helplessly endeared by his antics.

They talk with all the familiarity of old friends, effortless and simple. The conversation never once reaches a dull point, or an uncomfortable lull. And they happily talk and laugh with each other until they eventually fall asleep sprawled out on the couch, lured by the pull of alcohol metabolizing in their system.

“Shit!” Louis curses bolting up at the sound of his alarm going off. The very last emergency alarm. “I’m gonna be late for rounds! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He hisses under his breath as he scrambles off the couch. “Why do I always have to cut it so damn close all the time?”

Harry hums blearily, lifting his sleepy head. His long hair is sticking up everywhere as he watches Louis trip about the room like a chicken without his head.

“Look, don’t judge me for not showering or brushing my teeth. I’ll do it at the hospital, I swear.” Louis strips out of one shirt and throws on another one that he just grabbed out of the dryer.

“I wasn’t going to say a thing…” Harry smirks, rubbing his eyes. His morning voice is unnervingly deep. It almost makes Louis pause just to dwell on it, but he doesn’t have time for that right now. “…but…that’s just fucking nasty.”

“It’s not by choice, ok!” Louis defends. “I can’t miss rounds for essentially cosmetic reasons. Rounds wait for no man.”

“Cosmetic? It’s hygiene, Louis! _Hygiene_! It’s a necessity!”

“I know, I know! That’s why I’ll do it at the hospital! I have emergency toothpaste in my locker just for times like this.” Louis assures. It’s a pretty common thing for the interns, living out of lockers and being ready for any form of crisis—mainly, running late. Honestly, Louis has used the hospital showers more than his own shower lately.

Harry still looks skeptical. “Alright…if you say so…”

“You should come by later, maybe visit Gemma…” Louis tries briefly, throwing it in casually.

“Yeah…” Harry sighs at the mention of his sister, expression suddenly heavy and exhausted again. But he faintly nods his head in agreement.

“Or you know, I could show you around the hospital, give you a grand tour or something.” Louis offers instead. “Exciting stuff. _Super_ exciting stuff.”

Harry smiles marginally, meeting his eyes.

“No pressure, just think about it.”

“No, you’re right…I should be there. I’ll come by later.” Harry decides gradually, running a hand through his unruly hair. “But…uh...I think I’m going to shower first and maybe brush my teeth before I leave the house? Cuz I’m not gross like _some_ people.” He smirks, back to teasing as usual.

“You’re an ass.” Louis shoves him on his way to the door, causing Harry to fall backwards onto the couch again. “Bye.” 

 

||☤||

 

Louis once again makes it just in time for rounds, having just enough time to freshen up a bit at the lockers.

“Cutting it close again.” Niall slides up next to Louis, dropping down on the closest locker room bench to tie his shoes.

“I told you I like to live on the edge, it keeps me young.” Louis jokes.

“Have you guys seen Zayn?” Liam asks, sounding worried as he leans against Louis’ locker.

“No?” Louis slides his lab coat on over his scrubs. “I just got here.”

“Yeah, same. If anything, I thought he’d be with you.” Niall shrugs, before standing to his feet.

“He’s never late for rounds…” Liam mumbles to himself, sounding confused. But none of them have time to dwell on it much further, because Steve marches into the locker room ready to give assignments.

“Good morning!” Steve greets cheerfully, and Louis wonders how he always seems to have so much energy at such an early hour every day. “Before rounds this morning, you’re all required to complete a training session in the skills lab with Dr. Phillips.”

Louis doesn’t mind that at all, skills labs beat the mundane busy work that usually follows rounds any day. And if they can postpone that for a bit, Louis is more than ready. Besides, Dr. Phillips is The Chief of Surgery and any opportunity to impress him is golden for an intern just starting out.

“Where is Malik?” Steve asks as his interns all begin to head towards the lab, all but one.

“I think he’s…um sick.” Liam lies, always trying to cover for Zayn.

“…Sick.” Steve repeats slowly, narrowing his eyes skeptically at Liam. “And how do you know that, Payne?”

“Because I uh…saw him…and he didn’t look well—and he erm—he told me to tell you...”

“Saw him where?” Steve presses.

“Here—or I mean he _was_ here… but…uh…he left because he uh couldn’t stay? Because of the—cuz he’s um…sick. Yeah.” Liam tries and Louis nearly winces because if there is one thing Liam is horrible at, it’s lying.

“Well if that were true, which I highly doubt, Dr. Malik would need to inform me himself that he was too ill to work today.” Steve answers, eyes still narrowed. “Dr. Payne, I know he’s your friend, but he’s a grown man and he doesn’t need you to cover for him. Please don’t make a habit of lying to me or it’ll be your ass on the line.”

Liam bows his head regretfully. “Right, erm sorry, sir.”

They all follow Steve’s orders and report to the skills lab and Zayn does eventually show up…that is, once the training is completely over three hours later.

“Where were you?” Liam hisses as soon as he catches up to him in the hall. He definitely doesn’t look sick, in fact it doesn’t look like anything is wrong with him.

Zayn grins a bit, opening his mouth to answer. “I was—”

“Malik! Nice of you to finally join us.” Steve greets warmly with a smile, dripping in sarcasm. “You look well. Did you have a nice rest, sleeping beauty?”

“I know I missed the skills lab, I’m sorry, Dr. Aoki. I had a—”

“Surgeons don’t make excuses, Malik.” Steve’s face instantly morphs into serious and authoritative. “If you want to be a surgeon, then own up to your bullshit.”

“Right, ok. But sir, I—”

“Scut.” Steve says, not bothering to listen to his excuse.

“Scut?” Malik groans, throwing his head back in disgust.

“Aww, are your pretty hands not used to that? Poor baby.” Steve pretends to pout in sympathy, handing Zayn a stack of charts. “Get over it and get your ass to Room 5901, Mrs. Coleman is in urgent need of a rectal exam after her colonoscopy.”

Zayn looks like he would rather die, groaning again as he takes the heavy stack knowing fully well it’s filled with the most menial and grueling of medical tasks.

“Payne, you’re on Ortho today and Horan you’re with…uh…” He glances down at his clipboard. “Peds.”

“Yes!” Niall exclaims happily, always enthused to have the chance to work with children.

“And Tomlinson, you’re on Neuro.” Steve reads. “All of you report to your respective services.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

||☤||

 

 

Being on Neuro means being under Dr. Carmichael’s service. She’s the Chief of Neurosurgery as well as Gemma’s primary surgeon. Louis thinks she’s an absolute badass, one of the coolest and most talented surgical attendings at SSMC. Any chance he gets to learn from her is a gift, she gets him more excited about the field of neurosurgery every time he is on her service. And lucky for Louis, Dr. Carmichael thinks he is one of the most capable interns in his surgical class and frequently requests him on her service. Louis just tries his best to never disappoint her, always stepping up his game and going the extra mile to make sure he remains in her good graces.

Louis and Dr. Carmichael walk into Gemma’s room together and Louis is pleasantly surprised to see Harry. He seems to have just shown up, sitting off to the side in one of the extra room chairs. Louis can tell they probably still haven’t talked, if the way Harry is sitting is any indication, body language almost completely closed off. But at least he’s here and came to support her. That only demonstrates how much Harry really cares about his sister, wanting to be by her side despite his understandable anger and frustration towards the situation.

“Hello Gemma!” Dr. Carmichael waves warmly, before noticing Harry in the room. “Oh, hello—we haven’t met, I’m Dr. Carmichael.”

“Hi, I’m Harry, Gemma’s brother.” Harry smiles politely and shakes her proffered hand.

“Oh, so you’re the famous baby brother. It’s lovely to finally meet you, Harry.” Dr. Carmichael says. “Your sister raves about you all the time. Doesn’t she, Dr. Tomlinson?”

“Oh yes, _all_ the time.” Louis smirks, giving Gemma a wink.

“So I’ve heard.” Harry nods, glancing at Gemma briefly. “Well I look forward to getting to know you both as well. Actually, I have a few questions about her condition, if you don’t mind?”

“Sorry, he’s a bit overbearing.” Gemma apologizes, giving Harry a look of her own.

“No, he’s just being a good brother. Everyone needs someone looking out for them.” Dr. Carmichael encourages genuinely. “Harry, I know how hard this all must be to process and I’d like to help as best as I can, so please ask away. I will be as transparent with you as possible.”

Harry nods in appreciation, offering her a small thankful smile. “So um, yesterday Gemma told me that she has mixed tumor or something in her brain…what exactly does that mean?”

“Gemma has a mixed glioma and basically what that means is there are two different types of cancerous cells making up her tumor as it grows.” Dr. Carmichael explains. “One is far more aggressive than the other so the treatment must be very strong and direct to eradicate it. This type of tumor only accounts for one percent of all brain tumors, so it can be complex to treat.”

“Fancy way to say I’m dying.” Gemma sums up easily.

“ _Gemma_.” Harry hisses, moderately pleasant face quickly morphing into complete distress.

“Well, it’s the truth, Harry.” Gemma reminds him. “It’s better to just be real and honest about it.” 

Harry’s face only grows in disapproval, practically scowling, before he turns back to Dr. Carmichael. “You’re saying that you can’t take it out?”

“Yes and no.” Dr. Carmichael starts. “The surgery I have proposed to remove the tumor is very risky and hardly tested. The survival rate is slim and even if she survived, the recovery process can be so brutal and will require rounds of heavy radiation. It’s a very long road and a very hard fight and because of that, we have held off on the procedure, at your sister’s request, for the sake of the baby.”

Harry doesn’t seem to be very happy with that, brow still pulled together tightly. Louis knows how frustrated and powerless he must feel by this news, it’s not something that is easy to hear or understand.

“Our plan is to get the baby as close to full term as possible before we induce labor.” Dr. Carmichael continues. “So far, Gemma’s scans have been ok and her tumor hasn’t spread too far out of control, but we are monitoring her closely.”

Harry lowers head, digesting the information slowly. “Ok…so…when the baby is delivered then…”

“Then we fight this.” Louis finishes for him, making sure his voice is nothing but positive and determined. And maybe it’s Louis’ own imagination, but when Harry meets Louis’ eyes, Louis swears he sees some of the worry dissipate from Harry’s features.

“Yes, exactly.” Dr. Carmichael agrees with a nod. “And in the meantime we remain optimistic and prepare for a healthy new baby. Which, by the way Gemma, Dr. Johnson will be in shortly to do your routine ultrasound and sonogram for the baby.”

 

||✚||

 

Once all the doctors have scurried out of the room, it’s only Gemma and Harry left in the silence. Harry has plenty to say, but he doesn’t want to be the first one to talk and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t know where to start.

“I’m really glad you’re here.” Gemma speaks up quietly. “I…I wasn’t sure that’d you’d come back…”

“Of course I’m here, you really thought I’d leave you?” Harry frowns deeply, taken aback. “Gemma, you’re my _sister_ , you’re my best friend for fucks sake—I couldn’t leave now if I tried.” He admits, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “That being said, I’m still mad about this. I’m trying really hard not to be, because I know you don’t need the extra stress right now.”

“Harry listen, I’m so sorry for how I’ve handled all this. Really I am.” Gemma apologizes, face heavy with remorse. “It was all so unfair to you…and I don’t know what I can do to make it right, but all I know is that I don’t want you to spend however long we have left together being mad at me.”

Harry lifts his head to meet her eyes. He knows just how worried she is about him, he can see it all over her exhausted face. Harry doesn’t want to fight with his sister anymore, there’s no sense in it now. What’s done is done and he’s here now. All he can do is be here for Gemma now, as best he can.

“You’re right, Gems.” Harry nods, reaching to grab her hand. “And…I’m sorry for how I reacted, I didn’t mean to explode and fuck off. I just…I’m scared…”

“I know.” Gemma squeezes his hand tightly. “This is all so scary, but we don’t have to talk about it, not right now. We can talk about normal things and tease each other and go back to just being us.” She offers him a soft reassuring smile. “Here, I’ll start. Your hair is getting so long, I almost mistook you for Tarzan when you came in yesterday.”

Harry instantly breaks into a smile of his own. “Yeah, well you’re just jealous because my hair is better than yours and I’ve obviously got the better genes.”

“You wish.” Gemma challenges with her eyes narrowed. “We both know I’m the better Styles. It’s just a fact.”

Harry laughs, shaking his head fondly. “I’ve missed you. I think I skipped over saying it yesterday, but…it’s really good to see you, Gems.”

“I’ve missed you too, H. More than you know.” Gemma takes his other hand as well, holding them both with her smaller ones. “Stay with me for the ultrasound, yeah?”

Harry leans in to kiss her forehead. “Ok.”

Dr. Johnson, the obstetrician, comes in a half an hour later in light pink scrubs, introducing herself to Harry just as Dr. Carmichael had. She sets up the ultrasound, squeezing gel over Gemma’s stomach and moving the wand around in order to bring up the clearest image of the baby. She goes through and makes sure everything is normal and that the pregnancy is progressing smoothly.

“Everything looks great.” Dr. Johnson reports with a smile, scribbling a few things down on her chart. “And we’re still keeping it a surprise, right Gemma?”

Gemma starts to nod her head. “Yep—”

“What?” Harry interrupts in total surprise. “You don’t even know what the sex of your baby is?”

“I don’t need to know. I love my baby regardless.” Gemma says, looking down at her stomach. “Besides, I like surprises.”

“Well, _I_ would like to know.” Harry insists.

“That’s too bad.” Gemma laughs, shaking her head. “Dr. Johnson is sworn to secrecy.”

“Just whisper it to me, I won’t tell her I swear.” Harry encourages with a grin, leaning in towards the obstetrician.

“I can’t, she’s right.” Dr. Johnson laughs, toweling off the gel from Gemma’s belly. “Your sister runs a tight ship around here.”

“Of course she does.” Harry tilts his head fondly, looking down at Gemma.

It kinda feels normal, and Harry can shut his mind off and just pretend like the only reason he is at this hospital is because his sister is having a baby, nothing more. He can close his eyes and just allow himself to be happy for her, relish the joyful normalcy and awaited excitement that comes with having a child.

“Avery Elliot.” Gemma says out of the blue.

“What?” Harry blinks in confusion.

“I’ve decided that’s what I want to name my baby.” Gemma announces proudly. “Avery Elliot.”

“That’s a cute name for a boy.” Harry agrees.

“It doesn’t matter if they’re a boy or girl, it’s the name I want. I’ve made up my mind.”

“You don’t think it kinda sounds like two boy’s names?”

“No, it’s two neutral names and I think that any name can be for a boy or a girl. Besides, it doesn’t really matter because I like how it sounds, it’s pretty.” Gemma stubbornly decides. “And for the record, I feel like my baby is a girl.”

“You feel like…” Harry quotes back in teasing.

“Yes, I _feel_ like.” Gemma swats his shoulder with a grin. “We talk, me and her.”

“A girl named Avery Elliot? Well, that’s definitely unique.” Harry tests out the name with a growing smile. “I kinda like it, I think?”

“It grows on you.” Gemma nods happily. “No matter what happens, make sure she gets that name, ok?”

“You’re going to be here to do it yourself.” Harry reminds in confidence. He refuses to accept any negative outcomes, deciding to remain positive and keep hope alive regardless of what his sister says.

“Oh my god…” Gemma’s eyes widen as she gasps suddenly in surprise.  

“What? What’s wrong? What happened?” Harry asks in succession, instantly on alert.

“Give me your hand!” Gemma urges, reaching out to grab it when Harry doesn’t move fast enough. She places his hand over her swollen belly, watching for his reaction. “You feel that?”

Harry nods his head as a slow, captivated smile spreads across his cheeks. He stares down at his hand in amazement, feeling slight little movements under his palm. “That’s incredible, Gem.”

“I think she likes your voice.” Gemma grins up at him. “You know who else she kicks for?”

“Who?”

“Louis.” Gemma reveals. “She loves Louis, it’s the weirdest thing.”

“Huh…that’s interesting…” Harry hums to himself.

“Isn’t it?”

 

||✚||

 

“You look so lost I almost feel embarrassed for you.” Louis grins in amusement as he strolls up to Harry standing awkwardly in the middle of a split hall.

“I’m not lost…not at all. I’m just uh…admiring the hallways...” Harry tries, even though he knows it can’t be further from the truth. Gemma is getting lab work done so he thought he’d find something to eat in the cafeteria—if only he could find the cafeteria. Why are hospitals built like a maze?

“Oh right, of course, yeah.” Louis nods slowly, sounding so sarcastic Harry almost starts giggling. “Well I guess you don’t need me then. I’ll just be going. See you aro—”

“No, wait!” Harry blurts instantly before Louis walks away.

Louis turns and raises a single eyebrow, biting back a smirk.

“If by chance I was maaaybeee trying to get to the cafeteria or something…” Harry shrugs indifferently, pulling a face. “Which hallway would you suggest that I admire next?”

Louis lets out a little laugh, shaking his head before grabbing Harry’s hand. “Come with me.”

“You don’t have to take me, I’m sure you have better things to do. I don’t want to distract you or—”

“It’s perfectly alright, Harry. Relax, I was heading there anyway.” Louis assures, pulling him down the right hallway. “If you want, you could eat lunch with me and my friends. They’re basically the only people I ever see.”

“Ok, I’d love to meet your doctor friends.”

“Good.” Louis smiles. “Just a fair warning, they’re quite an interesting bunch so I can’t safely guarantee that you won’t be slightly uncomfortable at least once, so I apologize.”

“What does that even mean?” Harry frowns in confusion.

“You’ll see.” Louis grins as they enter the cafeteria. The line is surprisingly empty, so they breeze through collecting their lunch and walking over to Louis’ usual table.

There are already three people sitting at the table, who Harry assumes must be Louis’ friends. Two of them are talking loudly and animatedly to each other while sharing their food and the other one seems to be in his own world, hunched over a book, taking avid notes.

“Hey guys, this is Harry.” Louis greets as they approach, causing each one of them to lift their heads. “Mind if he has lunch with us? I found him wandering around looking like a lost puppy and I felt bad.”

Harry knocks his hip against Louis’ playfully, giving him a look before waving hello to the three guys.

“Sure bro, sit with us. We don’t bite, I promise.”

“Harry, that’s Liam, Zayn, and Niall.” Louis introduces, pointing to each one of them and Harry commits their names to memory. He and Louis take a seat next to each other around the circular table.

“It’s lovely to meet you all.” Harry smiles, waving a little again.

“Ooh…you’re British too, like Louis.” Zayn observes, looking between them curiously. “Are you two related?”

“No, it’s just a coincidence.” Louis shrugs, popping open a bag of chips.

“Mmm...I see, I see…” Zayn props his head up on the table and leans in a bit more. “So Harry, are you single? Also, follow up question, are you and Louis fucking?”

Harry blushes instantly, nearly choking on his bottled water. He was definitely not at all expecting that question or the way Zayn is intently watching him and Louis.

 _“Zayn_.” Louis hisses, turning his own shade of red. And Harry thinks it’s kind of adorable how embarrassed he looks.

“What?” Zayn gapes innocently, holding a hand up. “He’s cute, Lou. I was just curious—god. And for the record, I completely approve.”

“Oh my god, why can’t you be normal?” Louis sighs, holding a hand to the side of his face as he avoids eye contact with Harry. “We’re _friends_.”

“Gotcha.” He gives them a wink and Harry is already starting to see what Louis meant earlier.

“Ok well, let’s not scare poor Harry away.” Liam speaks up, giving Louis an apologetic look as he scrambles to change the subject.

“I am so sorry. They don't get out much.” Louis mumbles to Harry, leaning over to him. But Harry can’t help but laugh, finding the whole thing hilarious. And it doesn’t fail to melt the apologetic anxiety from Louis’ face, even getting him to chuckle a little too.

“Oh, hey so Z, where were you this morning?” Liam asks. “You still haven’t told me.”

“On-call room.”

“So you overslept?”

Zayn smirks, licking his lips. “Not exactly…”

Realization seems to suddenly dawn on Liam's face. “What the fuck! I covered for you and basically lost Aoki’s trust and you were having sex in an on-call room! Unbelievable!” Liam bursts in outraged disgust, gasping at Zayn. “ _Unbelievable!”_

“Aww you covered for me, Li.” Zayn pouts, wrapping his arms around Liam from the side. “You’re the best, I love you—”

“Don’t touch me, I’m not doing it again. Ever.” Liam frees himself from Zayn’s hold insolently, turning away from him dramatically. “I hope you fucking flunk.”

“You don’t mean that, you know you’d miss me if I was gone.” Zayn leans into Liam, speaking to him in an almost flirty way.

“Yes, I do mean it!” Liam bickers back petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I wouldn’t even notice if you were gone because I’m too busy doing my damn job, unlike you. I hope the sex was worth your spot in the program.”

“Are they always like this?” Harry whispers to Louis curiously.

Louis nods, rolling his eyes a bit. “I think Liam has a thing for Zayn to be honest, but I don’t think Zayn has realized it yet. But I just stay out of it.”

“The sex was _soooo_ worth it.” Zayn claims, licking his lips. “We went multiple times and I—”

“TMI. Some of us actually sleep in those beds.” Niall scoffs in disgust, finally speaking up for the first time after being so engrossed in a medical journal he’s researching. “And can you two please shut the fuck up already, I’m trying to concentrate. Go work it out or fuck it out in an on-call room somewhere.”

Liam turns the brightest shade of red, fish-mouthing without knowing what to say. Luckily Zayn’s pager goes off, saving him from having to form a real reaction.

“Ugh, Aoki won’t stop giving me shit to do.” Zayn groans, sliding out of his chair bitterly. “Literally shit. I’ve been giving rectal exams all fucking day.”

“Good thing the sex was worth it.” Louis smirks in teasing, sipping on his water.

Zayn groans again as the rest of the table snickers at his expense. “Anyway it was great meeting you, Harry. Maybe you can teach my friend here how worth it sex can be.”

Louis flips Zayn off, but Zayn only smiles back, winking again as he leaves.

“Oh! That’s it! I got it!” Niall exclaims suddenly, jumping out of his chair, seeming to have found whatever he was looking for in his book. “Shit, I gotta go—nice to meet you, Harry. Sorry, I didn’t get to talk to you much.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Harry waves him off politely. “Another time.”

“That is if there is another time, I may never bring you around these lot again.” Louis says as what might be a joke with an underlying serious tone.

Soon Liam’s pager follows suit, beeping incessantly and causing him to go running out of the cafeteria just as Niall and Zayn had, leaving Harry and Louis alone at the once lively table.

“So...is that a common thing around here?” Harry wonders, snacking on a peanut butter coated celery stick as he leans back in his chair.

“What? Hook-ups in on-call rooms?” Louis raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, does that, like, happen…a lot?”

“More than I’d like to know.” Louis answers. “But yeah it does. Apparently people can’t keep it in their pants until they get home. Especially if they spend most of their time here.”

“Hmm.” Harry hums in consideration before leaning his elbows down on the table to look at Louis curiously. “So have you ever…”

“…What?”

“You know…” Harry wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “…Hooked up with someone in an on-call room?”

Louis whacks his shoulder, expression pulled into a surprised frown. “Are you really asking me about my sex life!? I hardly know you! We met _yesterday_!”

“And we’ve been through so much since then!” Harry defends, biting back a laugh. “We live together now, we were literally just accused of fucking, you’ve seen me cry, I’ve seen you naked—”

“You have _not_ seen me naked!” Louis argues, shoving Harry this time.

“I saw you shirtless—whatever, same thing.” Harry shrugs with a smirk.

“Not the same thing but…ok.”

“Anyway, we’ve jumped _sooo_ many levels of friendship in just 24 hours!” Harry continues, grinning. “I think it’s a fair question.”

Louis lifts his chin up, narrowing his eyes at Harry. “For your information, I find on-call room hookups to be cheap and dirty and hardly worth my time, so no. Anyone that I decide to fuck has the decency to want to do it elsewhere.”

“A man of standard, I respect that.” Harry nods with another grin.

“Would you?” Louis turns the question right around, narrowing his own eyes at Harry. “You’re gonna be here for awhile, you never know who might offer to have a go at it in a twin-sized bunk bed in a room with paper thin walls. Extremely romantic.”

“I mean, I could potentially see the excitement of it—the thrill and all that but…no.” Harry decides slowly. “That wouldn’t be my thing.”

“Mm I see.” Louis nods curiously, eyes still narrowed. “And what would your thing be then?”

“Ooh…we don’t know each other well enough for that.” Harry smirks knowingly.

Louis shoves him again, nearly causing Harry to fall from his chair laughing. “You dick! A few minutes ago we were best friends according to you. And now you want to keep secrets.”

Harry cackles loudly, leaning over himself. “I like you, Lou. You’re hilarious.”

 

||☤||

 

“Louis, I have the best idea!” Harry bursts into Louis’ room excitedly.

Louis blears at the clock on his bedside table, almost not believing his eyes. “Oh my god…You’ve gotta be shitting me, Harry…”

Harry drops onto Louis’ bed undeterred, snuggling right into the free side as if he belongs there. Funny that, because he’s only been staying with Louis for just about two weeks now and he already has no problem making himself completely at home. Harry curls up close to Louis, hovering over him. “Here me out, ok?”

“Sleep.” Louis groans, pulling a spare pillow over his head. “I. am. _Sleeping_!”

“Ok, yeah I know, I’m sorry—but I had this idea and I had to tell you right away! You ready?” Harry asks eagerly, raising an eyebrow at Louis.

“Am I ready?! Did you really just ask me if I? Am? _Ready_? At fucking 4:30 in the goddamn morning!?” Louis snaps. He’s always cranky in the mornings, but this is barely morning, it’s an inhuman time of day. And this is his day off, essentially his only time to ever sleep in.

“Louis, please.” Harry asks again and there’s something hidden behind his voice that Louis can’t quite place in his sleepy state of mind.

“Do you even sleep, demon boy?” Louis grunts, flipping onto his back as he groans again. He peeks one tired eye open at Harry. “Why did I ever let you into my house?”

“No…I…I can’t sleep—not since…um…” Harry answers seriously, stumbling over his words as voice falls quiet and raw. And that’s when Louis places it. He knows exactly why this sounds so familiar, it’s because he’s been there.

Something in Louis softens inexplicably even despite the exhaustion he feels tugging at his core. He shifts his body towards Harry, rubbing his eyes awake and settling his gaze on his face. Louis notices the drawn lines of fatigue, the deep dark circles ringing around Harry’s eyes, the worry seeping from his pores and Louis’ heart immediately goes out to him. He’s been there, he’s had his share of sleepless nights and wide awake mornings, praying for something— _anything_ to distract his mind.

“Go on then…I’m already awake, might as well get on with it.” Louis huffs, but there’s not any real irritation behind his words anymore, only gentle understanding.

Even in the dark of the room, Louis can clearly see Harry’s smile spread across his face, obviously relieved that Louis isn’t going to kick him out.

“Alright, here it goes: Ice cream and wine _floats_. Boom.” Harry pretends to drop an imaginary mic on the bedspread. “You know, like a root beer float…but wine instead.”

“You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

Louis laughs, he full on _laughs_ , tossing his head back against the headboard with his eyes squeezed shut. It’s probably the hardest he’s ever laughed since he moved to Seattle and it’s all because of Harry Styles at ass-o-clock in the morning. “Oh my god, you are the strangest person I’ve ever met.”

“Well thank you.” Harry beams like he takes those words as the highest form of compliment.

Louis keeps laughing, somehow unable to stop now that he’s started. But it feels really good to just laugh completely uninhabited, he hasn’t felt this randomly carefree and light in who knows how long.

Harry just watches him, tilting his head to the side as though completely fascinated by Louis. “You have a pretty laugh.”

“I don’t think I’ve laughed like this in ages.” Louis admits, finally settling down.

“That’s a shame, you should laugh all the time. It’s lovely sound…” Harry whispers in what sounds like awe, still watching Louis closely.

“Mmm.” Louis hums softly, just staring at Harry in the close proximity of his bed. He sort of wonders what it’d feel like to kiss Harry—his lips are so full and they look almost inhumanly soft, but they can’t possibly be as soft as they look, right? Louis could wonder that back and forth for hours in fascination, but instead he clears his throat, sitting up and letting his sheets pool at his hips. “So I suppose ice cream and wine floats could very well be a stroke of genius…or it could be fucking horrible.”

“Wanna find out?” Harry tempts, raising an eyebrow as he follows suit and sits up on the bed as well.

“I hate to break it to you, but 5 A.M. is not really the typical alcoholic dessert hour.” Louis smirks.

“Oh, who really cares, Lou?” Harry grins, grabbing Louis’ hand to pull him out of bed. “Let’s call it dessert for breakfast.”

“Ok…” Louis smiles, following after Harry willingly. “But only because I don’t have to go in to the hospital today.”

 

||☤||

 

“It’s… _different.”_ Louis decides slowly, spoon hanging out of the side of his mouth as he considers the flavors. Harry made a total of three concoctions with what they had in the kitchen. One is a peach sorbet mixed with moscato, the second is a strawberry ice cream paired with rosé and the last one is completely out of the box, salted caramel ice cream with a dark sherry.

“Yes…it is very… _different_ …” Harry tilts his head to the side in consideration, eyes narrowed. “But…dare I say…a…good _different_?”

“Hmm…” Louis dips his spoon back into the last cup to taste it again. They’ve been going back and forth, repeatedly trying each one of Harry’s wine floats while stupidly speaking like pompous old wine tasters. Oddly enough, the salted caramel one is growing on him. “Definitely a _different_ different.”

“The best kind of different.” Harry adds, grinning wide.

“You’re an idiot.” Louis laughs in a fond sort of way.

“A _different_ kind of idiot.” Harry amends, raising his eyebrows.

Louis laughs even more, eyes crinkled.

“Really, I’m just saying stupid shit to get you to keep laughing.” Harry admits, still grinning down at Louis.

Louis smiles, dropping his gaze down to the floor as he shakes his head.

“So does it ever get lonely in this big house by yourself?” Harry asks randomly, leaning against the countertop.

Louis lifts his head back up. “Uh well…I’ve only been properly living here a few months since I started the program at SSMC, but...yeah I guess sometimes it does…” That’s a total understatement and he knows it. It got so lonely that he hardly ever came home, always trying to find somewhere else to be—usually the hospital.

“You should get a pet or something.” Harry suggests.

“I have a pet or something…” Louis looks to Harry pointedly, smirking.

“I’m not a pet.” Harry pouts, slapping Louis’ shoulder lightly.

“I provide shelter for you, I get out of my warm bed to entertain you, I feed you—a pet.”

“But I cook.” Harry defends, wagging a finger at him. “Could a pet cook for you?”

“A good one could.” Louis jokes.

“Shut up.” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “Ok, but seriously, I think you should get a dog. Man’s best friend and all that, you know?” 

“But I don’t have time for a dog.” Louis argues, and he’s not lying, he really doesn’t have the time.

“What do you have time for?” Harry rolls his eyes a bit.

“Nothing.” Louis sighs.

Harry leans in closer, still leant up against the countertop. “Does being an intern make you this unbearably _lame?”_

“Erm, no?” Louis tries, scrunching up his nose. “Well yes. Probably.”

“You need a dog.” Harry repeats again with even more certainty. “Spice up your life a bit.”

“And explain to me how having a dog spices up my life?” Louis questions, arms crossed over his chest.

“It just does. Go with me on this.” Harry insists knowingly. “You’ve got this beautiful house all to yourself, but there’s no one but you in it.”

“You’re here.” Louis reminds.

“Yeah…for right now.”

Louis falters a bit at that, he’s enjoyed having Harry around for past few weeks and he doesn’t like thinking of when he might not be around anymore. “But I—I’m hardly home! I told you I practically live at the hospital.” 

“Ok yeah, but when you are home it’s what? Just you and the dust bunnies.” Harry sighs, shaking his head with disapproval.

“Hey…” Louis pouts a little in offense.

“Come on, let’s go.” Harry tells him, grabbing his hand. “We’re getting you a dog.”

 _“Now_?!” Louis widens his eyes in total surprise.

“Yes, now!” Harry insists adamantly, practically dragging Louis out of the kitchen. “There’s no time like the present. And you’re off today, it’s perfect!”

“I think it’s you who really wants a dog, but you’re deflecting on me.”

“Fine, you caught me. If you get a dog, it’ll be like me getting a dog cuz I’m here all the time anyway. I’m living vicariously through you. Happy now?”

“Yeah, actually.” Louis nods.

And that’s how they end up at an animal rescue shelter, showing up right when it opens. There’s no one else there besides a few workers, why would there be? Who in their right mind adopts a dog at 7 A.M.? Harry, apparently.

They walk, stride for stride down the long hall of enclosed gates at the shelter, each containing a poor canine without a home. Harry looks each one of them over carefully, but keeps walking as though he knows exactly what he’s looking for but just hasn’t found it yet. It seems like they’ve been walking the rows for ages, Louis just entertaining Harry with no actual intention of adopting a dog. What is he going to do with a dog? He can barely care for himself in all honestly.

Harry halts abruptly, pivoting his heel to face a particular gate and Louis practically collides right into him. “This one.” 

Louis turns slowly to face the cage. There lies a miserable little abandoned puppy, with the saddest dopiest eyes Louis has ever seen. The poor thing looks absolutely pathetic and depressed, like he’s been kicked. “ _That_ one?”

“Yes, that one.” Harry nods, reading over the little information placard attached to the outside of the gate. “He’s just a puppy. And it says here that he’s an English Springer Spaniel mix.” He turns to beam at Louis excitedly with wide eyes like a little boy. “Lou! Now we have got to take him home, he’s English!”

Louis raises an incredulous eyebrow. “We?”

“ _You!”_ Harry adjusts, draping an arm over Louis’ shoulders and bumping their hips together repeatedly. “You’ve got to take him home! Aww, look at those big sad eyes.”

Louis looks back at the dog over his shoulder, eyeing the odd pup curiously. “Hmm he looks a bit like that one actor…”

“Which one?” Harry wonders, squinting his eyes at the puppy trying to visualize it before Louis has even said anything.

“You know the one who played on _Doctor Who_?” Louis tries to remember, squinting his eyes. “Umm Benedict Cumbersome or Cucumber or Cockfuck or something?” 

 “Cockfuck, _really_?” Harry bursts into surprised high pitched laughter, throwing his head back with his eyes squinted shut. “Because that’s obviously a typical last name.”

“I mean…I did say _or something_.” Louis reminds cheekily with a knowing smirk.

“I believe it’s Cumberbatch.” Harry corrects after he has settled his laughter enough to talk again.

“Ooh right, _right_ …that’s it!” Louis smiles smugly, wagging a knowing finger to Harry. “Benedict Cumberbatch. He looks just like that guy!”

Harry tilts his head in consideration, chewing on his inner cheek as he eyes the dog. “Hmm…I guess he kinda does…”  

“It’s the eyes I think.” Louis observes, inclining his own head in thought. “No…maybe the ears?”

Harry shrugs, moving to open up the cage and pick up the puppy. “Come on, Lil Benedict. You’re coming home with us.”

“Wait, what?” Louis frowns, looking down at the dog cuddled to Harry’s chest. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious.” Harry confirms, holding the puppy’s face up to Louis’. “Look at this face. How can you say no to this little sad English face?”

“Easily. No.”

“He needs a home, Lou! He needs love—he needs _you_ —”

“Stop…”

Harry turns the dog around and holds the puppy’s head next to his own, pouting the same way, eyes somehow becoming bigger. “Pleaseee take me home. You already took in one English stray, what’s one more?” He talks for the dog, speaking in a babyish but still endearingly cute voice.

Louis shakes his head at him, but feels his resolve diminishing.

“And he’s already got the perfect name and everything.” Harry continues to beg. “Come on, this is fate.”

“Fate.” Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“What? You don’t believe in fate?” Harry questions with a frown.

“Erm…I mean I do…yeah…I guess.” Louis debates, leaning his head to the side. “But not when it relates to a dog.”

“Fate’s in the small things just as much as the big things.” Harry tells him in certainty.

Louis’ lips gradually upturn into a smirk. “You’re a philosopher now too, I see.”

“Not as my day job–well it doesn’t quite pay the bills.” Harry teases dumbly. “But I do know some things are simply fated to happen. No use fighting it. Which is why you have to take our new friend home where he belongs.”

Louis sighs, feeling like there is no way Harry is going to let him get out of this. “Ugh _fine_.”

“Yay! You have a home now, Benny!” Harry lifts the pup up above his head happily.

“I can’t believe I’m spending my one day off adopting a dog.” 

“A day well spent honestly.” Harry beams from ear to ear, dimples digging deeply at his cheeks.

“Says you. The man who forced me to do it.” Louis tries to complain, but he truly doesn’t feel that upset about it, more so fascinated by the bright smile on Harry’s face.

“I didn’t really have to twist your arm all that much, but if you want to blame me for bringing a new source of joy into your life then so be it.”

“You’re fucking impossible.” Louis sighs again.

They take Benedict home and Harry insists that they take him out for a walk, claiming that he needs to acclimate himself to his new home. And unsurprisingly, young Benny full of endless life and bubbling energy, ends up busting free from the leash Harry is holding him by and talks off running towards the woods. Harry chases after the puppy, screaming the entire time and Louis reluctantly follows after him, forging through the thick forest.

“ _Fuck_ —I’m out of shape…” Louis huffs as he, not so gracefully, runs behind Harry. “Is it just me or are we going uphill?”

“It’s not just you.” Harry pants, following after the left behind paw prints in the mud.

“This is embarrassing…I think I need to take up running or something to improve my cardio.”

“You and me both. I liked to consider myself fit, but obviously I’m no match for our new little friend.”

“I’ll say…” Louis sighs, forcing himself to keep moving.

“Benny! Come here, boy!” Harry shouts for the millionth time. He’s been calling the dog to absolutely no avail. At first, they could at least see his little tail wagging in the distance behind the trees, but now there are almost no signs of the pup.

“I told you a dog was a bad idea…” Louis reminds, shaking his head as they pause for a moment to catch their breath. “He’s been ours for not even a single day and he’s already running rampant.”

“He’s just a puppy, Lou. It happens, we’ll train him.”

“ _You’ll_ train him.” Louis corrects pointedly. “That is if we even find him. He’s so fast. Are English Spaniels hunter breeds? Because we will never catch him at this rate—”

“Shit! There he is!” Harry jumps into motion as he spots the furry speckled dog, standing just up the dirt laden path. “Benedict! Stop! Heel! _Stay_!”

Louis crosses his arms over his chest and gives Harry a look. “So is he supposed to magically already know what those words mean or…”

“Shut up, he’ll learn them.” Harry tries. “...I hope….”

Louis sighs again, shaking his head, watching on as Harry tiptoes towards the puppy, obviously trying his best not to spook him away before he has a chance to catch him. Benedict stays still in his spot, tail wagging happily as though he thinks this has all been some sort of game.

“That’s it Benedict, you’re a good boy, right? You’re not gonna run off again. You’re a good, good boy.” And right when Harry almost grabs his collar, Benedict takes off again, shooting further up the hill.

“No! No! Benny _please_ buddy!” Harry groans in frustration, nearly falling over as he attempts to go after the disobedient dog again. “You’re not helping me convince Louis to love you! Don’t you want him to love you?”

Louis cackles, watching Harry slip and slide in the mud.

“Oh my god, he stopped.” Harry gasps in total surprise, looking back at Louis. “What the fuck, that actually got him to stop. I can’t _believe_ this dog!”

Louis only laughs harder with that, bent over his knees. And while Louis continues to laugh at him, Harry somehow manages to finally capture their mischievous pup, clipping him back up to his leash.

“I got him! See, he just wants your approval, Lou. All he wants is for you to love him.”

“Well of course I love him now.” Louis calms his giggles, bending down to affectionately scratch behind Benedict’s ears. “Anyone who can get you to look that stupid has my entire heart. He’s a proper lad now, aren’t you Benny?”

Even on a leash, Benedict still wants to keep walking, tugging against the strain of his harness towards the top of the hill.

“I mean...we might as well go the rest of the way.” Harry shrugs, already giving into the dog’s pull of the leash.

“This dog already has you totally whipped.”  Louis smirks, shaking his head with a chuckle as he follows after Harry and Benedict.

Together, they near the edge of the dense forest, bright light peering through the branches. The dirt path fades out into a grassy clearing of beautiful open space overlooking Seattle from a distance. The way the rolling hilltops meet the sun looks almost unreal at this height. Everything is vibrant and golden, almost like walking into another far off, mythical world.

Louis and Harry both collectively gasp as they take in the scene before them, standing in the midst of the quiet field sprinkled with wild flowers.

“Have you ever been up here before?” Harry wonders in awe.

“No...” Louis shakes his head slowly “I had no idea it existed.”

“This must be Seattle’s best kept secret.”

The wind rolls over the soft, long bladed grass, like waves of the ocean, The silence of the space stretches out for peaceful miles.

“Standing up here, it feels like we are the only people who know it exists.”

So they sit and spread themselves out in the gentle grass. With no one to disturb them, no one to find them, Harry and Louis stay up there, with Benedict draped over their legs, until the sun slowly starts to set. The horizon paints like a masterpiece, splotches of color reflecting across the warm hued sky. And with a view like this to reflect on, they can almost pretend they don’t have a single care in the world.

 

||✚||

 

Everything with Louis is easy. Comfortably easy. Louis understands Harry naturally, without having to put much effort into it and Harry never feels like he is having to overly explain or justify himself like he does with other people. Louis just…gets it. And he makes this whole shitty situation so much easier. Bearable.

As the weeks pass, they fall into a bit of a routine with each other. They spend the nights that Louis isn’t on-call just talking and joking around together. Sometimes Harry cooks, other times they sit picking at take out boxes, playing with Benedict and drinking that same god-awful cheap wine paired with their favorite ice cream flavors. It’s effortless and it’s comforting. With Louis, Harry can forget about his problems for a while and just _breathe_.

Sometimes Harry wonders what happened to Louis, where he came from. Sure, he knows he moved here for the surgical program, but what happened before that? There are little pieces of him hidden away that he carefully skirts around, that he doesn’t ever talk about. But Harry would never push because he hardly likes to talk about his own past. In fact, if Louis didn’t already know parts of it from Gemma, Harry probably would avoid talking about it completely.

Why talk about it? Why revel in the worst times of his life, why dissect and rehash memories he’d rather let fade? Being passed around from home to home as a kid, never having a real place to call his own. To be honest, Harry doesn’t know what it’s like to stay still, he has no idea what it feels like to lay down solid roots in one place. It’s probably why he was so compelled to backpack across Europe, finding a comforting appeal in always being on the move.

But as of now, he’s been in one place, in one house far longer than he’s spent anywhere in years and Harry finds it oddly refreshing. He could get used to it if he allowed himself and maybe it’s high time he stopped hopping from place to place and learned to call somewhere home.

During the days Harry spends his time glued to Gemma’s side, never leaving her room. In all honesty, he get’s so worried about her that he doesn’t even want to leave in the evenings. Gemma has to practically beg him to go and sometimes Louis has to physically pull him out of the room to come home with him.

Sometimes, when he and Gemma are simply joking around like they used to, Harry can almost trick himself into believing everything is fine. He can force his mind into an alternate reality where Gemma isn’t sick and these aren’t the walls of a hospital room. That they are just two best friends watching a movie together or two close knit siblings playing a heated game of scrabble.

It works most days, at least somewhat. Harry shuts everything out for as long as he can, trying his best to just live in the moment and enjoy his sister’s welcome company. But there are also other days, like today, when the truth is slapped against Harry’s face so hard it nearly paralyzes him.

They’re sat together on Gemma’s hospital bed, legs crisscrossed over her lavender sheets, painting each other’s nails. Gemma already coated Harry’s in a deep plum color and now he’s doing hers in a light teal. It’s taking longer than it should because they can hardly sit still, constantly laughing with each other as always.

“Oh my god, remember that one time—” Gemma starts, interrupting herself with her own giggles. “We were staying with those horribly prudish foster parents…and they wouldn’t let you paint your nails…”

“Ohh…” Harry sighs, already laughing as he shakes his head, knowing exactly where this is going.

“So you colored them in with permanent marker?” Gemma cackles, biting her lip. “It didn’t come out for _weeks.”_

“All of my fingers were stained fucking black with ink.” Harry snickers at his own expense.

“Hil _aaar_ ious.” Gemma laughs, stretching out the word. “And I think you were, like, eleven or something…so you were more than old enough to know better.”

“I knew better, but I didn’t care. There’s a difference.” Harry smiles, holding his head up defiantly. “I was proving a point and making a statement, which was more than a good cause to embarrass myself. I stood my ground.”

“Yeah, you did.” Gemma smiles proudly. “I always admired you for that.”

Harry grins back. “I’m pretty sure all of my stubbornness was learned directly from you.”

“Bullshit.” Gemma laughs, slapping Harry’s knee with her newly panted hand.

“True shit.” Harry argues, smiling wider. “You’re the most stubborn person on this earth, I swear to god. All hail the queen of stubbornness.”

“Well if I’m the queen, you my dear brother must be the king, you stubborn ass.”

“Mm no, I’m a prince at most.” Harry contests with a shake of his long curls. “I’m hardly stubborn enough to sit at the king’s thrown next to you, my liege.”

“Look! You’re being exceptionally stubborn right now!” Gemma holds an accusing finger to him, eyebrows raised. “You’re only proving my point, your highness.”

“Oh shut up.” Harry laughs wholeheartedly again.

A knocks sounds on the already open door, and Dr. Carmichael stands tentatively in the empty doorway with a chart in hand. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, no it’s alright. Come in, have a chat.” Gemma smiles, waving her doctor into the room happily. Harry likes Dr. Carmichael, especially since Gemma seems to especially like her. She’s compassionate and caring and there’s something really genuine and open about her.

Dr. Carmichael smiles, walking further into the room. “You know, I always love a good chat with you, Gemma. I wish I was visiting under better conditions this time, but I do have something we need to talk about.”

Gemma nods, seeming unsurprised, but Harry immediately feels his heart rate pick up. He doesn’t understand how his sister can be so calm about all this, it doesn’t make sense for her to be so at peace when faced with more potentially life-threatening news. Harry wishes it was good news, but with the somber tone and solemn mannerisms of Dr. Carmichael, he knows that is not the case.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2oFeJqnjF3o&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR0XAp0JTz0nOe7wo3nkZ6&index=2)

“Gemma, your latest scans aren’t good.” Dr. Carmichael informs solemnly, eyes gentle. “Your prior glioma is impeding and we’ve discovered new aggressive anaplastic cells on your right temporal lobe.”

“What does that mean exactly?” Gemma asks quietly and Harry immediately takes her hand in his, trying to slow down his pulse.

“It means that the longer we wait to operate, the worse your condition will get. The division of the cancerous cells in your brain is unpredictable. The risk is becoming far too great.”

“So you’re saying if she doesn’t have the surgery now, she could…” Harry’s voice trails, complexion quickly losing color. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, he doesn’t want to give the concept open space to become a reality. “…She could have less time?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, yes.” Dr. Carmichael confirms, nodding slowly. “Our original plan allowed Gemma to carry to term, with the expectation that hopefully no new growths would manifest in her temporal lobe. But unfortunately, with the reduction of treatment due to the baby’s safety, the masses in her brain are progressing out of control. It’s becoming far too dangerous to leave untreated at this stage and I worry that waiting any longer could be catastrophic. We really do need to operate.”

“What about the baby?” Gemma worries, holding her free hand protectively over her swollen belly.

“Oh my god! Just forget about the baby!” Harry erupts suddenly in irrational frustration as he turns to face his sister. “They are trying to save your life, Gemma!”

“Harry—”

“No!” Harry shakes his head, refusing to listen to her this time. “Why aren’t you more concerned about yourself?! Why won’t you let them help you!?”

“Because I have terminal cancer, Harry! They can’t save me! They _can’t!_ ” Gemma responds, raising her voice only slightly to get her brother’s attention. “They are trying to give me a few more months, but I am going to die. I am. But this baby still has a real chance to live.”

“You don’t k-know that, you don’t know that you’re going to d-die. What if the surgery saves you what if—what if…” Harry starts crying, overwhelmed and unable to keep his emotions at bay anymore. It doesn’t make _sense_. It doesn’t. And it seems like he is the only one who doesn’t get it, who refuses to get it. Why won’t she fight harder? Why does it seem like she has already given up before it’s even over? Why won’t she prioritize herself? Why can’t more be done for his sister? Why won’t she _do_ something?

“We will try to hold off on the surgery as long as we can for the sake of the baby.” Dr. Carmichael decides, already excusing herself towards the door as she can probably sense they need time alone. “We can discuss further later…but how about I give you two some privacy.”

Harry drops himself into one of the bedside chairs, hiking his knees up to his chest as he tries as hard as he can to stop crying. He rocks himself a bit, ankles crossed at the edge of the chair, holding his body together with both of he arms clasped over his drawn up legs.

“Harry?”

He keeps his head buried down to his knees, not ready to face his sister just yet. He feels so helplessly frustrated, not knowing how to shake this feeling that’s consuming him from the inside out. It’s torture.

“Please Harry, just look at me?” Gemma tries again gently and she sounds like she’s trying really hard not to start crying herself, voice cracking a bit. “Please…”

Harry rubs his entire face against his sleeve, before slightly lifting his head to tearfully look up at her.

She’s holding a small box in her lap, looking down at it for a long moment. Her cheeks are wet and her hands are unsteady atop the package “It’s for her…and you. For when I’m gone. I was going to wait to give it to you, but now I…”

Harry starts shaking his head wildly. She keeps planning for a future she is certain she won’t be a part of, she’s so ready to erase her presence in his life and every time she does, every time Gemma tries to cut her life short, it feels like a dagger struck straight through Harry’s heart.

The tears begin falling harder as he continues to shake his head frantically. “No. Gemma, you aren’t gone yet, you’re—”

“Harry.” Gemma stresses his name, but her voice is as soft as the look in her eyes. “I know you don’t want to think about me not being here. I don’t want to think about it either. But you have to be strong, you’ll get through this—”

“Gemma stop! Stop talking to me like you’re already dead! You’re still here! You’re still _here_ …” Harry continues rocking his body back and forth, muttering the words over and over again as the tears stream down his cheeks relentlessly.

He’s been trying so hard to stay positive, trying to keep some semblance of faith alive in his heart. He kept telling himself it will all work itself out in the end, somehow everything will be alright because miracles happen and sometimes things really do work out. But this…this isn’t turning out to be one of those times. This is real, it’s happening whether he opens his eyes to it or not—his sister is dying and there is not a damn thing he can do about it.

Like a ruptured dam, Harry sobs, head once again rested down against the tops of his pulled up knees. Somehow he is sitting, yet he feels like he can’t quite hold himself up any longer, like he could collapse and collapse and _collapse_ until he’s nothing but a puddle on the cold hard floor.

“Oh, come here, H.” Gemma holds her arms out to him, wanting so much just to hold him. “If you’re going to cry, at least come cry and cuddle with me.”

And there’s nothing Harry needs more than to be cocooned by his sister’s arms, so he drags himself up on weak, weary legs and crawls into the hospital bed with her. He curls himself around her pregnant body, twisting their legs together.

“You know I love you, right?” Gemma whispers to the crown of his head, rubbing his back softly.

Harry nods without words, arms wrapped around his sister as he rests his head just above her baby bump.

“Oh, I love you so much, Harry. You’ve always held my entire heart.” Gemma professes. “I can’t stop thinking of you— all I want is to protect you. I wish I could protect you from all of this and take it away...but I can’t. I guess that’s why I keep talking about it so casually. To offset the blow of it maybe. I don’t want this to break you.”

“It already is.” Harry whispers, sniffling. “Gemma, nothing you say or do is going to make this any easier...I love you, you’re the most important person in my life.”

“I know, I know, H.” Gemma comforts, lips pressed against his hair as she tries to console him. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”

 “I just…I…I don’t know how to survive l-losing you…” The tears break Harry’s face as he starts to sob again.

Gemma holds him tighter because that’s all she really can do. At this point, it’s out of her control—it’s out of anyone’s control. So they hold on to each other while they still can, crying together in each other’s trembling arms as they try to make sense of and prepare for the looming future awaiting them.

 

||☤||

 

Louis hops out of his outdated bucket of a car, pausing to stretch his exhausted limbs. It’s nearing 5 A.M. and he is just now getting home. He was stuck in surgery, which he is in no way complaining about. It’s an honor to get to stand in on any major surgeries as an intern. This time he just happened to be in the right place at the right time and he was the nearest intern available.

And when The Chief of Surgery asked him to hold the retractor for his seven-hour surgery, Louis held that retractor steady for seven, long, _grueling_ hours without a single peep of complaint.

Needless to say his back is shot to shit.

Louis waddles towards the front door, fiddling around with his keys as he drags his feet. He looks up at the porch and finds Harry sitting on the swing quietly, unmoving.

“Harry?” Louis calls, walking over to him gradually. “Have you been out here all night?”

Harry blinks and looks around, seeming to do so for the first time in hours, only now registering what time it must be. “Oh…um…I guess so. Yeah…”

Louis sits down on the swing next to him. They sit for a moment in silence, before Louis wraps an arm around Harry, gently guiding his head down to rest on Louis’ shoulder. Harry doesn’t contest, instead he nuzzles closer to Louis, welcoming the comfort.

“I just keep thinking that any moment she could just—” Harry’s voice drops off as he sucks in a harsh breath. It takes him a minute to recompose himself, curling closer to Louis. “And it’s like she’s pushing me away—trying to prepare me or whatever. But… she’s not gone yet…she’s not…”

Louis rubs Harry’s back soothingly in small circles, remaining quiet as he lets Harry get it all out.

“She’s everything to me, Lou. She’s the only person I have left…” Harry whispers brokenly, heavy water building up behind his hushed voice. “It was just us. My whole life it’s just been _us_ —me and Gem against the world…and I…” He shakes his head slowly, staring out straight ahead. “I’m not ready to lose her. I can’t—I…I just…”

“Come on, let’s go.” Louis decides suddenly, knowing exactly what Harry needs right now.

Harry sits up a bit, lifting his head to meet Louis’ eyes in confusion. “What? But don’t you have to go back in today?”

“I do get breaks, you know.” Louis answers with a small smile. “They may be short and fleeting, but they do happen every blue moon. I exceeded my hours for the week and I’m not on-call today.”

“But you haven’t even slept…”

“Neither have you.” Louis points out. He stands to his feet and holds out his hand to Harry. “Come on.”

“Where?” Harry questions curiously, taking Louis’ hand and following after him regardless.

 “Somewhere only we know.”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3KHJKj9GgsI&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR0XAp0JTz0nOe7wo3nkZ6&index=3)

They pack a backpack full of food, a hodgepodge of leftover takeout and random snacks and signature crappy wine, and they climb up the hill that leads to their favorite clearing. With Benedict in tow, eagerly running ahead of them on a leash, Harry and Louis take their time walking up the newly forged path, hands linked together.

When they reach the top, they both pause for a moment to take it all in. Up here it’s like the world as they know it fades away completely. Everything falls to a standstill and nothing matters, except the moment they’re living in. They’ve never been up here at such an early hour of the morning and they’re just in time to spread out on the gentle meadow and watch the sky paint and transform with color as the sun rises from the east.

And with the way the fresh light is already peeking out from the mountaintops, Louis just knows it’s about to be a truly beautiful day.

“Do you ever think about your future?” Harry asks out of the blue as he stares up at the clear sky. They’ve just finished eating their impromptu picnic and they’re laid out, backs pressed against the soft, dewy grass.

“Yeah, sometimes…” Louis answers, eyes closed as the sun warms his face. “Why?”

“Oh, well I dunno really…it’s just that…” Harry pauses, glancing at Louis and there’s an air of nervousness in his tone.

After several beats of silence, Louis opens his eyes, turning his head to Harry questioningly. “Just what?”

Harry sits up a bit, a determined glint to his brow. “Ok—I’m gonna be honest with you—can I be honest with you, Lou?”

“Always, H. You can say anything.” Louis promises softly.

Harry relaxes marginally, settling back down against the ground. “So…I have this vision, right? Like a little film I play in my head when I don’t really like how my life is—which is constantly lately, but anyway…I guess it’s like a goal of sorts…”

“A goal? Like a life goal?” Louis asks curiously, propping his head up with one arm as he lays on his side towards Harry.

“Yeah, exactly.” Harry confirms with a nod. “Just simple list of things, you know? They aren’t anything particularly grand. Just normal things. Things I never really had before, but I always wanted.”

“Like what?” Louis wonders, watching Harry intently. “Describe it for me, Harry. I want to picture it.”

“Um…ok…” Harry looks down laughing nervously as a slight blush creeps along his cheeks. “Well I call it my Someday List—and I’ve never told anyone this or said it out loud before and now even the title sounds dumb. I can practically feel you judging me.”

“It’s not dumb. And I’m not judging you at all.” Louis promises seriously, inching his body a bit closer to Harry. He brushes his knuckles against Harry’s forearm gently. “If you want to share it with me, I’d love to know. What’s on the list?” 

Harry lies back on the grass, looking up at the open blue sky again. “Well the premise of it is uh me—obviously, and I’m married and we’re… _happy_. Not just any kind of happy, but…like, a real kind of happy, if that makes sense? One that I’ve never really experienced before…and we have a family—a beautiful, loving family. And the list is all the little things and traditions I want for us to someday have apart of our everyday lives.” He explains, although a bit bashfully, still uncertain. “Have I lost you yet?”

“No, no…keep going.” Louis encourages gently, dropping himself back as well, lying flat against the crisp, dewy grass, focusing solely on Harry’s voice.

“Ok um…well…it’s having brunch every weekend on Saturdays because Sunday is far too cliché.” Harry starts, getting right into it.

“Saturday brunch?” Louis considers slowly. “That sounds nice. I’ve never thought to have it on a Saturday.”

“It makes more sense if you really think about it. Saturday is just a better day.” Harry explains seriously. “I could go on about that, but then we’d probably never have time for me to tell you the rest of the list so anyway…it’s mini spontaneous weekend trips where we just throw all our shit in the car, grab the kids, and go. Who knows where, who knows why, we just go.”

“Just like that?” Louis asks, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Just like that.” Harry nods, smiling. “A completely random and unplanned vacation. The kids will love it.”

Louis matches Harry’s smile. “How many kids exactly?”

“Umm…at least four.” Harry decides slowly. “I think it’d be cool to have two boys and two girls.”

“Four is a good number.” Louis agrees, a big family always sounded perfect to him, especially considering the large family he came from.

“I’m a fan of symmetry and all that.” Harry laughs a bit, curls blowing in the gentle breeze. “But it really doesn’t matter, I just want loads of little babies running around our house.”

“That sounds lovely.” Louis grins, slow and warm. “What else?”

“It’s dating.” Harry says next.

“Dating? Just dating? That’s rather simple, isn’t it?”

“No, not _just_ dating. Dating as in we never stop dating.” Harry explains further. “Even when we’re old and married and set in our stupid ways, I still want to date them and have little date nights and lunch dates and just…dates.”

“Dates.” Louis echoes, peeking over at Harry.

Harry gets a stupid look on his face. “We’ll date the shit out of each other.”

Louis laughs, eyes crinkled. “I guess you’d never lose the spark that way.”

“Mhmm…I promise to fall in love with something new about them every day for as long as we live.” Harry professes and there is a glint in his eye that’s just…intoxicating.

“Harry Styles, you’re such a sweet old romantic.”

“Am I?”

Louis nods, feeling himself start to smile uncontrollably. “Completely.”

“Well it probably doesn’t help that my list would never, _ever_ be complete without long carefree drives at sunrise and evening walks at sunset.” Harry smirks and Louis can hardly tell if he’s joking or serious.

“Oh, of course not.” Louis grins knowingly. “I’d be more shocked and disappointed if those weren’t on the list, to be honest.”

“I figured.” Harry laughs, lying back on his back. “Anyway…it’s ridiculously over the top and nearly obnoxious Christmases, with cookie decorating and handmade holiday ornaments and the ugliest of sweaters and annoying Christmas music blasting in our house for two months straight.”

“That definitely sounds like all the trimmings.”

“I’m not joking, I want festivity shooting out of our asses.” Harry states seriously, turning back to face Louis and watching on as Louis, of course, starts to laugh. “If my whole family isn’t smelling like gingerbread and wrapped up in Christmas lights with a wreath hanging from each of their necks, then I won’t be happy.”

Louis continues giggling, finding Harry ridiculous yet wonderfully endearing as usual. “Did you know I’m a Christmas baby—well Christmas Eve, but still.”

Harry gasps, eyes wide with what appears to be genuine delight. “Aww Looouu! That’s _wonderful_! Listen, no matter where we are in the future, we have to celebrate the entire holiday and your birthday together, ok? Promise?”

“Ok, yeah…I promise.” Louis bites his lip as he grins back at Harry.

“Good, and that leads me to my next thing. When it comes to birthdays we’ll have special traditions—little things we do every single year for every single birthday. With running inside jokes.”

“Like ice cream and wine floats?” Louis smirks in suggestion.

Harry giggles, nodding his head slowly. “Like ice cream and wine floats.”

Louis laughs along easily. Is it just him or is this list starting not to sound like it’s intended for a fictitious person in the distant future? Because the more Harry tells him, the more Louis can easily see himself in each one of these things, building a beautiful life with Harry at his side.

“It’s...dancing in the moonlight.” Harry says next, getting that same starry-eyed look on his face.

“Dancing in the moonlight? Like the song?” Louis wonders.

 _“Exactly_ like the song.” Harry smiles, turning on his side to face him.

“It’s a good song.” Louis hums.

“It is, I love it.” Harry agrees happily. “Alternatively, we can slow dance to old vinyl records in the living room, but I think it’d be better under the moonlight.”

Louis grins, unable to stop himself from imagining being wrapped up in Harry’s arms, swaying under the moon. “I think you’re probably right.”

“It’s crossword puzzles in bed on lazy Sunday mornings over coffee with eggs on toast.” Harry lists next.

“You make a mean eggs on toast.” Louis compliments from experience.

“Ahh, you think so? Thanks Louis.” Harry beams, entire face breaking into a smile. “And it’s secret family handshakes with all our kids, that we would make as ostentatious and ridiculous as possible just to embarrass them.”

“I’m already embarrassed for them picturing what’d you would come up with.” Louis shakes his head, rolling his eyes in a fond kind of way.

Harry wiggles his eyebrows mischievously and honestly Louis thinks he’s already his own version of an embarrassing dad.

“Alright lastly, I want tons of polaroid photo albums filled with candids of us and our growing family through our time together.” Harry describes, getting that same starry, tender look in his eye. “Dozens and dozens of pictures so that when we’re old and grey we can look back on our time together and relive it all and smile about the life we built together.”

“Like a time capsule. A family capsule.”

“Yeah…” Harry smiles softly, sighing a little bit as he lays his head back. “It’s stupid, I know—”

“No, no it’s not stupid at all.” Louis shakes his head instantly, reaching to squeeze Harry’s hand. “I like that list.”

“Yeah?” Harry wonders in surprise, only proving how insecure he really is about it.

“Yeah. It’s…well…it’s _hopeful_.” Louis encapsulates slowly.

“Exactly.” Harrys nods, humming in agreement as toys with a blade of grass. “I think so too.”

Louis gazes at Harry for a moment, small smile spreading across his cheeks as he watches him. He’s beautiful and lovely and so very sweet and Louis thinks he could lay out here and stare at Harry’s profile for as long as he lives. “I really hope you have all of those things one day.”

Harry lifts his head, flicking his bright gaze up at Louis as his mouth upturns into a dimpled grin. Louis can only grin back, feeling weakened by the intensity of his overwhelming green eyes seeming to stare right through him. Louis reaches over next to Harry and plucks a wild daisy from beside him, tucking it into Harry’s curls, right behind his ear.

They spend the whole day up there in their secret place. Doing absolutely nothing, but somehow it feels like everything. For a bit, Harry looks so wonderfully carefree, laughing and joking with Louis. He’s all windswept curls and cute, bashful giggles, riddled with dimpled grins and soft smiles; but every so often a darkness overcasts his features. If he isn’t in conversation with Louis or distracted by Benedict’s antics, his mind wanders off to a gloomy, dark place. A place where his sister is gone.

Louis tries as hard as he can to bring him back, he tries to get him back to the present. He places more flowers in Harry’s hair or he picks up one of his novels that he brought up here and he reads it aloud to him, trying so hard to keep his mood light.

As they lie down in the gentle grass together, Harry rests his head on Louis’ chest. They lay in comfortable silence, perfectly at ease with each other as they watch the sun set in the west.

Harry peeks up, resting his chin on Louis’ sternum. He watches him for a moment as if deliberating what exactly he wants to say. “Thank you for today, Lou.”

Louis’ hand slides up Harry’s back, tracing light patterns to his spine. “Yeah, of course, Harry.”

“No, I mean...you don’t get much time off as an intern and the fact that you were willing to waste it away with me—”

“It wasn’t a waste, Harry.” Louis reaches up to brush a stray hair away from Harry’s face, running his thumb along the soft skin of his cheek. “I’m happy to spend time with you.”

Harry smiles before dropping his head back down again, contently nuzzling against Louis’ chest. “I’m glad I met you.” He whispers softly after a few quiet moments.

Louis snakes both of his arms around Harry’s frame, holding him close against his own body. A body that slots so easily with Harry’s. “I’m glad I met you too, H.”

 

||☤||

 

It happens on a Tuesday evening. A Tuesday not unlike any other Tuesday or even any other day of the week, but on this Tuesday, the fifth of April, things happen that Louis will not soon forget.

Louis is just popping by Gemma’s room to record her vitals and check output levels as instructed by his attending, and he finds Gemma sat up in her bed, flipping through channels on the TV.

“How are we this evening, love?” Louis asks with a smile as he walks into the room. “Feeling ok?”

“Oh fantastic!” Gemma nods cheerfully, palm resting on her swollen belly. “H promised to get me gelato from that gourmet place two blocks away. And we’re going to watch trashy soaps. So I’m absolutely winning, obviously.”

“Lucky.” Louis grins, scribbling a few notes down on Gemma’s chart. “Gelato sounds fucking amazing right now. And brainless TV sounds equally appealing.”

“Right?” Gemma agrees. “Aren’t I lucky to have such a wonderfully amazing and attentive little brother?”

Louis’ smile grows uncontrollably and he can feel his cheeks coloring. “He is quite amazing…”

Gemma pauses for a moment, eyes narrowed as she observes Louis carefully. She leans closer to him, trying to suppress a grin. “Do you have a thing for my brother, Lou?”

 _“What?_ I mean—um…Why w-would you…we aren’t even…” Louis stutters, embarrassingly flustered as he drops his pen on accident, flourishing an even brighter shade of pink.

“You should tell him how you feel.” Gemma encourages knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows.

Louis crouches down to pick up his pen ungracefully, nearly tripping over himself in the process. “I’m not…I mean…I erm? Uh…that’s not—”

“But tell him while I’m in the room to see it. I wanna see him get as flustered and red as you are right now. Honestly, sooo much better than anything on TV.” Gemma smirks, laughing amusedly at Louis’ expense. “God, I’m dying just thinking about it!”

“ _Gemma!_ ” Louis hisses in embarrassment, cheeks still painfully red. Yes, he may have swiftly blossoming feelings for Harry, but he doesn’t exactly know what to do with those yet and he’d rather not be put on the spot.

“What?” Gemma giggles, reaching out to grab Louis’ arm reassuringly. “Oh, lighten up Lou, it’s cute! You both are so adorable and bashful about it. And you’d look so perfect together! Makes my little sick heart swoon with happiness.”

“Well, I’m glad to have your approval? I guess?”

Gemma meets his eyes seriously, expression soft as she gives his hand a squeeze. “Of course you have my approval, Louis. You’re an absolute sweetheart and you’re exactly what my baby brother needs. Especially now. I’m really happy he has you.” She says genuinely. “Although, I am a bit tired of hearing about you all the time. I swear he talks about you nearly every other word.”

“Stop, he does _not_!” Louis blushes crimson, feeling equivalent to a young school child talking about their first crush. He is a 26-year-old man, he’s a fucking doctor for god’s sake. He needs to get his shit together.

“It’s always ‘Louis said this’ and ‘Louis does that’ and ‘did you know that—Louis! Louis! _Louis_!’” Gemma echoes exaggeratedly, offering a little shrug. “He’s proper gone for you, I’d say.”

“No, he is not.” Louis reddens again, and truthfully he’s lost count of how many times he’s blushed in the last five minutes. The thought of Harry talking about him—or also having feelings for him, is having an overwhelmingly embarrassing effect on Louis’ cheeks.

“Is too! And you wanna know what I think?” She sits up a bit and narrows her eyes at him.

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.” Louis smiles easily.

Gemma nods knowingly. “Right you are. I think that you—”

“Gemma?” Louis’ playful face falls as he observes her abrupt change in body language curiously.

Her head tilts slightly to the side and her eyes roll back against her head and suddenly Louis knows what’s about to happen before it even truly begins. He surges to her and gently tilts her body onto one side, as her body begins to seize uncontrollably.

“Code Blue!” Louis shouts, trying to keep Gemma’s shaking body on her side. “Page Dr. Carmichael now!”

Technically, a Code Blue is reserved for patients in cardiac arrest, but Louis figures he needs all the help he can get right now and seizures as strong as these usually end up leaving the patient tachycardic or even pulseless leading to a true Code Blue anyway.

A team of nurses and technicians come roaring into the room, rolling a crash cart in with them. The charge nurse immediately takes over holding Gemma’s body steady on her side.

“What do you want to do, Doctor?”

“What?” Louis breathes out heavily, eyes locked with the nurse. Two seconds ago he was just taking vitals and Gemma was laughing and joking with him and now her life and her baby are at risk.

“You are running the code, tell us what you want to do.” The nurse urges, looking to him expectantly.

“ _Shit_.” Louis’ brain runs wild, he’s never ran a code all by himself, only with supervision of at least a resident. He is only a few months into his intern year, he was just a medical student earlier last year for fucks sake. He is still a complete liability.

But Louis has observed enough times and read enough books and taken enough tests to know exactly what he needs to do. He just needs to stop doubting himself, take charge and trust his training. No time to panic.

 _i can do this, i can do this_.

“Dr. Tomlinson?”

Louis shakes his head, refocusing his attention on the juddering patient in front of him. “Um ok…do we have an airway?”

“Can’t quite get one in, Doctor.” A female nurse informs, struggling along with a fellow colleague to get the intubation tube placed. “Her teeth are gritted.”

“And you’ve paged Carmichael?” Louis stalls again, feeling the fear rising up inside him. He glances at the doorway, willing his attending to appear, willing her to storm in and save the day.

“Yes, yes.” A different, male nurses urges. “I paged her several times, but we can’t wait. We need to do something now.”

Louis takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes for only a second before reopening them, completely refocused once again.

“Alright, push 2 milligrams of Diazepam.” Louis orders, taking charge of the situation the best he can.

 The nurses follow instructions, injecting the drug through her IV while continuing to monitor her outputs. “No change.”

“Push two more.” Louis instructs, anxiety edging his way into his voice.

“Still no change.” The nurse notes after pushing the drug. “Maxed out on Diazepam.”

“How long has it been?” Louis looks up frantically.

“Almost 2 minutes, Dr. Tomlinson.”

“ _Fuck_.” Louis curses under his breath, knowing that the baby is most likely in all kinds of distress, not to mention the constant strain being placed on Gemma’s brain. “Ok, let’s—”

“V-tach!” One of the nurses yells next, while another immediately begins to bag Gemma’s face and start chest compressions, defaulting right into life support.

“Dammit.” Louis curses, looking at the fast paced tachycardic spikes on the heart monitor. “Charge to 200.”

“Charged.” The nurse promptly hands Louis the paddles.

He hardly takes a breath as he holds the pads to her chest, scared shitless. “Clear.”

The defibrillator shocks Gemma’s system, Louis removes the paddles and nurses resume chest compressions. “Still V-tach.” The nurse reads from the heart rhythm strip. “36 seconds.”

“Ok. Let’s charge to 300 then.” Louis decides quickly.

“Charged.”

“Clear.”

The shocks wave through Gemma’s chest again and Louis keeps his eyes glued to the monitor, waiting for the peaks of activity to normalize.

“45 seconds.” The nurse says, but Louis choses just to wait it out a few more seconds, sometimes it can take a moment to stabilize. He feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in years, but he keeps his eyes locked on the ECG outputs, paddles held midair.

“We have sinus rhythm.” She announces as the monitor begins do display normal signs of rhythm.

“Oh, thank god.” Louis sags with pure relief, setting the inactive paddles down. But his relief is instantly cut short as Gemma’s body once again convulses sporadically.

“No…no… _no_.” Louis stutters, eyes growing wide with terror. This is beyond his limited scope of practice; he needs an attending right _now_. “W-Where is Dr. Carmichael? Is she—”

“I’ve paged her several times.”

“Page her again! Page _anyone_!” Louis begs desperately, racking his brain for something they can do. He shouldn’t be alone in this, he shouldn’t be making all of these decisions without even the aid of his senior resident.

“Dr. Tomlinson, it’s still your call.” The nurse informs him dutifully. “How do you want to proceed?”

Louis doesn’t want to proceed; he wants it all to stop. The pressure is so heavy, but he can’t just give up. He may be new and he may not have as much experience, but this is his job. This is his responsibility.

“Ok um…” Louis reframes his focus, zoning in and breathing deeply to remain calm. “Let’s try pushing 2 Lorazepam.”

The nurses quickly begin administering the drug just as Dr. Carmichael comes running into the room. Louis nearly passes out at just the sight of her, instantly deflating.

“Tomlinson, what happened?” She barks urgently, eyes scrambling to read the monitor.

“She’s h-having multiple grand mal s-seizures. She’s loaded on Diazepam. And I j-just pushed 2 milligrams of Lorazepam, but the seizures persist. The b-baby is possibly—definitely in distress. Her h-heart—she had sinus V-tach...” Louis explains as calmly and sufficiently as he can muster, fumbling over his words only slightly. “But she was stabilized after 45 seconds.”

“Good, good. You did good, Louis.” Dr. Carmichael assures genuinely, easing his raging fears. “I’ll take it from here.” She turns back to the nurses, taking command. “Ok go ahead and push two more Lorazepam.”

Louis backs up and tries to calm his trembling hands and quivering breath, adrenaline coursing through his veins like a drug. He just ran his first solo code, on Gemma no less. The stakes were as high as they could be, but he survived and now Dr. Carmichael is here. Everything is fine.

_everything is fine, everything will be ok_

Except Gemma is still shaking violently, seizures skyrocketing out of control as the spasms continue relentlessly. The only good thing is that Harry isn’t here to see this. It could have happened when he was in the room, instead of Louis and that kind of trauma is not something easily forgotten or pushed aside.

“Her surgery can’t wait any more.” Dr. Carmichael decides after still no change in Gemma’s condition. “Call the O.R., tell them to prep for an emergency craniotomy.”

“Gems, I think that strawberry gela—” Harry cuts himself off midsentence as he steps into the high energy room, the enclosed tub of gelato he is holding slips from his grasp at he watches on in stunned horror. His now empty hand just floats in the air, holding the invisible shape of the container. He appears frozen in time, unmovable and not breathing, feet stationed to the ground.

“Oh no… _Harry_ …” Louis mumbles under his breath, wishing he could rewind time and prevent the look of terror painted over Harry’s features. Louis scrambles over to him by the door, calling his name repeatedly.

“Her brain is frying. We need to put her under before we go to the O.R. or she won’t make it.” Dr. Carmichael continues, reading the output monitor. “Push 100 of Sux and 20 Etomidate.”

Louis continues to call Harry’s name several times, but it’s like he can’t hear him, stuck in a trance. Louis knows exactly what it is like to be in shock, to be so stunned that your body has no choice but to pause, to momentarily stop existing out of self-preservation.

Slowly the seizures stop and Gemma’s body falls reluctantly still once more, but the feeling of relief by the medical staff is fleeting as the machines start to go off again for a different reason.

A nurse reads off the monitor. “Pulse is dropping.”

“She’s in V-fib, she’s going into cardiac arrest. Starting compressions.”

“Harry!” Louis shakes his shoulders and he seems to marginally snap out of it, tilting his head to meet Louis’ eyes in a daze. “Harry, you shouldn’t see this.” He pulls Harry’s stunned body out into the hall, away from all the chaotic mess. Louis forces Harry down into one of the chairs lining the hallway, kneeling down in front of him.

Harry shakes his head wildly, hands shaking limply at his sides. “Louis—I…she’s…what is—”

Louis slides his hands into Harry’s, giving them a comforting squeeze. “Harry, I need you to stay calm, ok?”

“Pressures coming up slowly.” A voice announces from inside the room.

“Pupils unresponsive. Breath signs weak.” Another one follows. Louis recognizes the voice to be Dr. Carmichael’s. “We have to get her to the O.R. _now_! Let’s move! Her body can’t take much more of this.”

Harry’s eyes are so impossibly wide and Louis knows he’s terrified so he keeps talking to him, trying to keep him as calm as possible. “Harry, breathe, ok? You have to breathe—breathe with me.”

“Tomlinson, let’s go. You’re scrubbing in with me.” Dr. Carmichael informs as she comes rushing out of the room, pushing Gemma’s gurney rapidly down the hallway.

Although Louis registered her words somewhere in his clouded brain, he makes no effort to move his body, still holding Harry’s hands tightly. He can hardly focus his attention anywhere that isn’t Harry.

“Page Johnson to meet us in surgery.” Dr. Carmichael orders towards the nurses’ station as she hurriedly strides along with the bed down the hall. “We need her to monitor the fetal heartbeat. The baby is most likely in distress.”

Everyone is moving in a flurry all around him and Louis feels as though he can only watch it happen. He can feel Harry shaking next to him, he can feel the tremor of his hands intertwined with his own.

“Tomlinson!” Dr. Carmichael shouts urgently from the edge of the hall, snapping Louis out of it.

“I’ll come out to give you an update, I promise.” Louis squeezes Harry’s fingers one more time before letting them go. He stands to his feet and slowly begins backpedaling towards the O.R. “As soon as we know anything. I promise.”

Harry nods blankly, but his hands are still shaking uncontrollably as he watches Louis with wide terrified eyes. Louis doesn’t want to leave him like this, alone and scared, but he has no choice. It’s his job. And he’s impossibly grateful to the nurse who comes up to Harry and wraps her arms around him. “I’ll walk with you to the waiting area and stay with you awhile.”

 

||☤||

 

“Dr. Tomlinson, you did very well today.” Dr. Carmichael compliments as they stand in the prepped O.R., surgery underway. “You did exactly what I would do. You assessed the situation and thought fast enough on your feet. Not many interns can do that this early on.”  

“Thank you, Dr. Carmichael.” Louis nods slowly. He can’t see her face fully behind her surgical mask, but Louis can tell she’s smiling at him, proud of her quickly learning student.

“Would you like to dissect the skull flap?” She asks, making room for him at her side, along the operating table.

“I—yes. Yes, of course.” Louis stutters, caught of guard. Getting to do anything besides retract and operate the suction as an intern is rare and he’ll take any opportunities he can to learn and be better.

The surgery seems to go smoothly for the first hour. Dr. Carmichael quickly gains control over the situation, remedying the damaged tissue and stabilizing Gemma’s overstimulated nervous system. Everything is good, everything is fine. Until suddenly…it isn’t.

“She’s hemorrhaging.” Dr. Carmichael assesses over the now blaring machines ringing out alarms all around the sterile room. Her hands work wildly, attempting to save her patient’s life. “Push Mannitol.”

“Check her eyes.” Dr. Carmichael directs her next order towards Louis.

Louis immediately rounds the operating table, manually opening Gemma’s eyes and flashing a light over them several times. “Pupils blown and non-responsive.”

Dr. Carmichael’s face says it all, even behind her surgical mask, but she continues working diligently. “Let’s hang more units of blood.”

The surgical team follow her orders as Louis watches Gemma’s outputs on the screen. It’s not getting any better, nothing is changing and Louis knows this can’t be good, but everything is already being done. He chances a look at the fetal monitor next and it’s not much better, the screen displaying persistent late decels, indicating the baby is in dangerous amounts of distress.

“The baby isn’t getting enough oxygen.” Dr. Johnson announces next. “Dr. Carmichael, I’m sorry, I’ve waited as long as possible, but I have to deliver this baby.”

Dr. Carmichael stays silent for a moment, fingers still working as her mind whirls and processes, before she stops and nods slowly. “Ok, go ahead and proceed with the delivery plan.”

Wasting no time at all, Dr. Johnson and her team begin an emergency cesarean section, cutting into Gemma’s swollen belly to rescue the premature baby. Louis doesn’t assist, standing a bit off to the side, out of the way, to observe.

“Can the baby survive?” Louis wonders, knowing that Gemma was not fully to term, only barely touching the 29th week of gestation, still critically undeveloped. “This young? I mean—”

“Yes, the chance of survival is manageable at this stage, and right now it’s the baby’s only chance.”

“But why isn’t the baby crying?” Louis worries, watching on as the extremely small newborn remains unsettlingly quiet.

“Baby is cyanotic.” Dr. Johnson announces, indicating that the infant’s airways must be compromised. She carries the slightly blue-hued newborn girl to a predestinated area of the O.R. to work on saving her life. Louis watches on from a distance as tiny tubes and ventilation apparatuses are strapped to the tiny infant. At such a young age, to be born prematurely and already need so much assistance just to live, tugs strongly at Louis’ heart.

“Ok, the baby is out, let’s see what we can do.” Dr. Carmichael instructs, jumping back in to work on Gemma again. “How many units has she had?”

“Seven, Doctor.” The scrub nurse answers. “Pressure’s still dropping.”

“Hang another unit. And let’s push more Mannitol.” Dr. Carmichael orders, moving fast. “Her heart is working too hard, I’m afraid she might—”

“V-fib!” The scrub nurse informs as the heart monitors goes off, confirming everyone’s worst fears. “Starting compressions.”

Everything from there happens so fast. The team goes through the measures of providing tireless life support. Going through several rounds of attempting to restart Gemma’s heart, applying charge after high voltage charge, followed by ceaseless compressions and assistance of drugs, but to no avail.

“She’s lost too much blood…she’s…” Dr. Carmichael shakes her head in discouragement, lifting her hands from Gemma’s stationary body and stopping compressions. The machines whirl and beep all around them, alerts going off. “She’s gone…”

Louis stands there utterly shocked, held captive by the events happening around him. He knew the risk was high, extremely high. He knew that, he _did_. But then seeing it happen, watching her flat line, watching the last traces of life drift away. Powerless to do a single thing about it.

“Time of death: 21:39.”

It all happened so _fast_ , the surgery not even lasting long enough for him to have the opportunity to give Harry an update. It seems like just minutes ago he was laughing and joking with Gemma about his potential feelings for her brother. And now, Louis stands there, eyes still locked on the monitor, watching the medical technicians begin to disconnect the machinery, watching the anesthesiologist suppress the sedatives, watching as the two attending surgeons in the room begin to close up her body stitch by stitch, making it presentable. Presentable so that her incisions and open cavity don’t completely terrify the awaiting family.

Terrify Harry.

“Tomlinson.” Louis feels the heavy hand of his attending on his shoulder, startling him from his unblinking stares. “Hey, we need to inform the family. Get scrubbed out and meet me at the nurses’ station.”

“Right, yes—ok.” Louis tries to shake himself out, tries to appear as if he is fine, but his mind keeps wandering, keeps thinking about Harry.

Unknowing, still hopeful Harry. 

His world is about to shatter completely and he doesn’t even know. Nothing will ever feel the same again. He will always remember this moment. For the rest of his life, he will envision this fragment in time, relive its haunting memory.

Louis remembers being on the other end, being the family member in the waiting room, alone, scared, just waiting for answers. Waiting for some form of relief. Only to see a cluster of somber white coats shaking their heads. Apologizing. Voices sounding like static and white noise as the realization ate him alive. Giving him the answers he was just begging for, but now wished he didn’t know.

Now Louis is the white coat, he is the bearer of bad news and unwanted answers. Louis can’t offer Harry the relief he wants, only the reality he is dreading.

Louis silently prays to every deity that Dr. Carmichael won’t use this as a teaching experience, asking Louis to do most of the talking. Since he started as an intern, _The Four L’s_ have been drilled time and time again into his head, constantly put into practice. The golden rules of how to properly and efficiently break bad news to a loved one. Being on the other side, Louis knows it’s not that simple, it’s just not. There is no magic golden theory to break someone’s heart, to shatter their world. You can’t just run down a series of steps on a list, checking off each phase robotically and that be it.

_location. language. body language. leave._

_The Four L’s_ , rinse, repeat, reuse. That’s what he’s been taught, that is protocol. And, of course, Louis understands that as an intern, giving the family bad news is something he must learn to do in an efficient manner, but he can’t. Not this time. He can’t look Harry, _his_ Harry, in the face and tell him that Gemma is dead. He can’t.

_location_

The waiting area is buzzing with various families and loved ones, all waiting for those confirming answers. The air is thick with anxious energy, worried and terrified vibes practically painting the walls. It’s no place to receive negative news, it’s no place to receive any kind of news really. And it is for that reason that a doctor’s first step is to remove the loved one from the stressful area, to a more isolated and controlled space to deliver the news.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1ag8kapwUk&index=4&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR0XAp0JTz0nOe7wo3nkZ6)

“Harry,” Dr. Carmichael calls gently in the waiting area, striding over to the cluster of chairs he is sitting at. His body is hunched over himself, head hanging in his hands as he sits completely still. “Could you follow us over here a moment, we need to talk.”

Harry’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, but his face only portrays a small fraction of hope, like he _knows_ , like he is trying to steel himself up for the blow. Like he has been trying since the second he sat down, to prepare himself for what may come.

Without a word Harry stands to his feet and silently follows behind Dr. Carmichael and Louis to a nearby vacant conference room.

Dr. Carmichael holds the door open for them, directing them inside to the awaiting table and chairs. “Would you like to have a seat, Harry?”

Harry shakes his head, obviously too on edge to sit any longer. Anxiety radiates off his body stronger than the heat from an open flame as he stands only a few paces into the room.

Dr. Carmichael nods in silent understanding as she closes the door for privacy. She then turns to subtly gesture to Louis, eyeing him closely. And in that moment his worst fears are actualized.

_body language_

Louis takes a deep breath, desperately trying to clear his head and remember what it felt like to be in Harry’s position. To be on the other side. He doesn’t have to think very hard, he remembers being there like it was yesterday. He approaches Harry slowly, placing a warm and comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder, meeting his eyes gently with all the compassion and empathy he can possibly convey.

“Harry, I-I’m so sorry…” Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage way straight to Louis’ soul, it’s _so_ hard, nearly impossible.

That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself.

But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase, he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly empty “I’m so sorry” that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn’t at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, he _feels_ it.

“We did absolutely e-everything we could.” Louis continues, voice still faltering every so often as he talks. “Gemma suffered a cerebral hemorrhage causing her to stroke out on the table. The seizures caused by her tumor taxed her body greatly, to unrepairable levels. Dr. Carmichael did everything she could to remedy the bleed…but she was losing too much blood and her heart was working overtime. Dr. Johnson had no choice but to deliver the baby prematurely via C-section…but Gemma—um the strain on her vital organs was far too extensive.”

Harry stays utterly quiet for a while, looking down at his feet, processing, visualizing all Louis has just laid out before him. His breaths are heavy but altogether even, as though he is concentrating on it, almost trying to distract his mind to avoid breaking. Harry lifts his head back up, flickers of uncertainty and farfetched hope twinkling among the gold flecks in his green eyes. “I need you to say it.”

_language_

Dr. Carmichael looks to Louis expectantly, but Louis is utterly frozen, mouth hanging open at a loss. He knows what Harry is asking. It’s what everyone asks, what everyone needs. That final confirmation of death. That much needed closure, so there is no room for question, no room for error, no room for blind hope or optimistic desperation. Language is everything and it must be used in finality.

But Louis can’t get his dry tongue to form the words, can’t bare to utter them in the private space, into reality. Not with Harry burning holes into his flesh, not with all the weight this one sentence bears, once it’s out there, it can’t be taken back.

Sensing Louis’ hesitation and unease, Dr. Carmichael steps in as a seasoned attending and teacher. Louis moves out of the way as she steps in his place, resting her own comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Despite our very best efforts, we could not save your sister. Gemma is dead, Harry. I am so very sorry for your loss.”

Harry sucks in a sharp breath, eyes falling closed weakly for a moment. He’s going to that place; a place Louis knows all too well. A place where he no longer hears what is going on around him, no longer sees, no longer perceives, for it no longer matters. It’s a place deep within the recess of his own head where the words _Gemma is dead_ are replaying over and over and over in his mind. The body trying to cope, the mind trying to understand, to make sense of the unimaginable, of the impossible.

“If there is anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.” Dr. Carmichael continues gently, giving his shoulder a soothing squeeze. “I know it may be too much to deal with right now, but Dr. Johnson delivered a beautiful baby girl. She’s very small, at 3lbs and 10 ounces, but she is also very strong. A fighter, that one.”

Harry just gazes at her blankly, completely unresponsive as Dr. Carmichael talks.

“Due to her premature birth, she will need to be kept in the NICU for several weeks for observation and monitored fetal development. But once she is stable, you are welcome to visit her there. I understand that Gemma has entrusted the care of her daughter under your guardianship. Social Services has already begun to approve the custody documents.”

Still no tangible response from Harry, and Louis is certain that he is not listening to her in the slightest. His ears are still ringing and screaming the same condemning three words.

 _gemma is dead_.

“There are still some things that need to be signed and officiated on your end, legal certificates and such. But we can handle that at another time with Social Services.” Dr. Carmichael continues. “I know how hard this must be on you, but you can see the baby soon.”

“I’m sorry…what…” Harry snaps out of it, blinking in an absolute daze, cognizance not completely there, still trapped somewhere far, far away.

“You can see the baby soon.” Dr. Carmichael repeats gently. “I think seeing her may help you. There is something magical about babies in that sense.”

“Oh…” Harry mumbles in an unfocused haze, seeming uninterested and distant. “Can I...can I see her? …Gemma, I mean? I didn’t…I didn’t get to say g-goodbye to her…”

_leave_

Another step Louis has a problem with, how can he be expected to just leave a grieving person there after delivering the worst news of their life? Yes, he has work to do, yes he has other matters to attend to but…how does he just up and _go_? Turn his back on someone’s actualized hell and keep going about his day. How?

“Yes.” Dr. Carmichael nods, turning to look in Louis’ direction. “Dr. Tomlinson can take you back there if you’d like.”

Well, apparently Louis won’t have to leave so soon this time. Which is a blessing because all he wants to do is be there for Harry. There’s no way he could function on another task right now, knowing that Harry is somewhere in the hospital trying to come to grips with all this.

“Yes, of course. I’ll take you.”

 

||✚||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5Le1qbAbco&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR0XAp0JTz0nOe7wo3nkZ6&index=5)

“Um…I can wait outside if you want?” Louis bites on his lower lip as they stand just inside the entrance of the still, sterile room. “Give you some privacy...”

“No, please stay.” Harry jumps instantly, eyes pleading as he grabs hold of Louis’ free hand. He doesn’t want to be alone. It’s hard to know what he wants exactly, he feels numb and disoriented, but he knows he doesn’t want to be alone. And Louis is his only constant now. “Don’t leave me.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll stay.” Louis answers instantly, giving Harry’s palm a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be right here. Whatever you need. I’m here.”

Harry forces himself to breathe as he nods his head, closing his eyes. He relies on Louis’ hand clutched to his own, finding comfort in the consistency of his steady pulse. Louis uses his free hand to open the door, leading Harry inside the room. The space feels cold, not just in the notably lower temperature, but in the bareness of the stripped down hospital room.

Louis gives Harry’s hand another meaningful squeeze before letting him go. He stands off by the door giving Harry space, but not leaving just as he promised.

Slowly Harry shuffles over to the hospital bed, settling down in the chair near the edge. He stares at her for awhile unblinking, and shocked. Taking in her unnaturally pale skin, the lack of a rising chest. It’s all so wrong. Gemma was always such a lively person, bright and charismatic and now her light has been diminished suddenly. Her light was what Harry relied on for his own source of guidance. Now his life is only shrouded in darkness, without a beacon, without a guide.

Harry stares and stares until he can no longer hold back, his face breaking, splitting in two, as the tears spill over. He drops his heavy head down at her side. “ _Gems_ …” 

He reaches for her limp hand, startled by the uncommon frigidity of her palms. Harry places Gemma’s cold hand between his two warm ones, somehow hoping by some chance, the warmth at his fingertips will radiate back to her.

With tears raging down his cheeks, Harry braves a look up to gaze at Gemma’s motionless face. “How am I s-supposed to go on without y-you? It was always me and you…just me a-and you and n-now—now....”

The words get lost somewhere between his mind and mouth and Harry shakes his head as the sobs overtake him again. He buries his head along the side of the clean bed, hands still laced with his sister’s.

It’s more than just the loss of his sister, it’s the loss of his only family, his only source of ground. The only person he had left on the earth. They weren’t twins, separated by a few years difference, but it feels like someone severed part of him off, amputated a vital piece of his body. Gemma always said Harry was so much a part of her, it was like they shared a brain sometimes. So in sync with each other, so connected. Losing Gemma is like losing himself. He hardly knows who he is without her at his side.

“You promised we would always have each other, that nothing would ever break us apart…” Harry whispers, swiping at his blurry eyes. “I’ve needed y-you my whole life and I—I know you’ve been trying to prepare me for this but…I’m not ready. I’m still not ready…”

He knew it was going to happen eventually, he knew Gemma didn’t have much time left. The signs were written all over the wall, she was only getting worse, Harry knew that. He _knew_. But knowing doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Harry looks down at the cold, lifeless hand in his. A hand that has comforted him, hugged him, held him though the worst of times. A hand that basically raised him. A hand that represents his whole world. A hand he has to somehow learn to let go of.

“Goodbye Gems.” Harry whispers sorrowfully, pressing a tearfully gentle kiss to her forehead as he forces the unfamiliar words out. How do you say goodbye to someone for the last time? How do you let go? “I love you…I’ll…never stop loving you.”

Eyes fallen closed, Harry tries to imagine the sound of her voice, he tries so hard to hold onto that treasured laugh. And realization dawns on him that he will never hear her voice again, that comforting sound is vanquished from his reality.

How can she just be gone? If nothing else, they always had each other. Nothing was a constant, the world around them shifted so many times nothing was recognizable, but they learnt to rely on each other, trust only each other. But who is Harry going to look to now? Who is going to keep him going? This is the hardest time of his life and he wants to rely on his best friend to get him through it, he wants to turn to his sister for comfort but she’s _gone._

Gemma was the strong one, she was the one who would know how to deal with this. How is he supposed to handle this without her? Without her shoulder to lean on, to rely on, to cry on.

Harry tries so hard to keep it together, to let his last parting words of farewell stand. He tries to force himself to make peace with this, to accept the impossible as Gemma would have wanted him to. But he can’t. Harry can’t do it. He can’t accept it. He collapses back in the chair weakly as his whole body starts to break down even more, crumbling in on himself.  

“She can’t be gone…” Harry mutters to himself as his tears flow freely, body shaking against his own will. He gasps again as the horrifying realty hits him once more, the disbelieving panic setting into his system, suffocating his sanity. “S-She can’t…she—she c-can’t just leave…she…she…”

“Harry…let me take you home, ok?” Louis murmurs softly. Harry didn’t even realize when Louis appeared at his side, but he is wrapping his arms around Harry’s body and pulling him up against him. Harry buries his head against Louis’ neck, shielding himself from the bitter ugliness of the truth.

Louis just holds him for a moment, fingers trailing in his hair as he whispers. “Let’s go home.”

 

||☤||

 

The funeral comes and goes. It was a small service, nothing grand or fancy, just the kind of thing Gemma would have appreciated. As they had no other family, the attendance was made up of Gemma’s closest friends. Even a few hospital staff and doctors privileged enough to really get to know Gemma, came to show their support including Dr. Carmichael and Dr. Johnson. The service was full of warm stories, treasured memories, and love. She was loved and she will be missed by everyone who knew her.

After the service Louis drove Harry back to his home, which might as well be Harry’s too, since Louis knows he has nowhere else to go. And Louis is happy to offer his home, feeling useless otherwise.

Although Louis is no stranger to loss, it’s strange that Gemma is gone, uncomfortable and unnatural. Louis doesn’t know what to do with himself at work, she’s been a vital piece of his day since he started at SSMC and without her he can’t help but feel a bit lost and off balance. He can only imagine how Harry feels.

Harry has been locked in his room for the past two days straight and Louis has tried to give him space, but he is rightfully worried about him, constantly hovering around the closed door, listening in for any signs of life.

He knows Harry isn’t particularly interested in eating right now, but Louis also knows he needs to eat, or at least try to eat. Tentatively, Louis knocks on the wood door of Harry’s bedroom. “Harry?”

The room remains soundless, not a crack or a peep.

He doesn’t want to ask the obvious question, ‘ _are you ok?’,_ because Louis knows Harry isn’t ok. He knows Harry is drowning within himself and no one can save him from it.

“Harry…um…I brought you something to eat...” Louis tries again, looking down at the to-go bag of food in his hands. “It’s not—I mean…I didn’t cook it because well, I don't cook. Obviously. But it’s from that Thai place? The one we went to a few times with the really good eggrolls?”

No answer.

“Anyway…um…I’m just gonna leave it outside the door, ok?” Louis stoops down and places the bag neatly against the door jam.

Louis stands to his feet and is just about to walk away, but suddenly can’t get his feet to move. He presses his palm gently against the wood of the door, leaning in until he feels the cool grains against his cheek as well.

“I know what it’s like...losing someone...” Louis starts slowly, not sure of how much he can even say. “Someone you love...”

Louis sucks in a heavy breath, closing his eyes for a moment as the familiar feeling he’s been actively avoiding washes over him like a flood. “I know that _feeling_...that empty, constricting pain that feels like it’s eating a hole right through your heart. That feeling of being stuck…like existing in slow motion…feeling time pass around you. But not being able to do anything about it...just being… _stuck_ …”

“I know...I get it…” Louis sighs sadly, palm still leaned against the door as he talks. “I don’t talk about it—I can’t…I…” 

Louis gets stopped up on his words, skirting around it. It’s been years but, the scars cut just as deep. So deep that Louis hasn’t shed a single tear in nearly ten years, he can’t bring himself to cry—won’t allow himself to cry, deathly afraid that he’ll never be able to stop.

No one ever tells you how much it’ll hurt, no one can ever relay into words what it feels like to know you’ll never see someone’s face again, or hear their voice or feel their longed touch. It hurts, it _burns_ , and the sting of it all doesn’t wane, it doesn’t fade. The only thing that really changes is how you begin to deal with it, you become better at coping, you learn to function, but you never forget and the ache never numbs. Instead it lingers and lurks, always looming in the shadows of your mind, unescapable grief, unavoidable sorrow.  

Louis takes a deep breath, pressing his lips together tightly. “It’s the reason I’m here really—a doctor, I mean. To help others not have to go through that, to save people from experiencing that… _feeling_.”

“I just um…I want you to know that I’m here for you.” Louis whispers, staring at the grains of the door. “Whatever you need, H. I’m here. I’m right here.”

There is still no answer from behind the door, but Louis knows Harry heard him, he knows that he was listening. And that will just have to be enough for now.

“Please eat, ok?” Louis mutters gently, praying his words somehow get through.

And maybe his words met Harry somewhere in between, because the next time Louis checks a few hours later, the bag of takeout is gone. Louis can only sigh with relief knowing that Harry is at the very least thinking about eating. He may not actually eat any of the food, but it is progress and any progress is good.

Soon Louis finds that Harry has moved from isolation in his room to sitting on the living room couch. He’s asleep most of the time and he hardly ever says anything, but at least Louis can see him. He can see that he is still breathing and trying to make it the only way he can.

Louis still brings him food when he gets home from work and he still talks to him like they used to talk all the time on this very couch. How they used to laugh and joke about absolutely nothing. And now even though Harry is hurting too much for that, Louis still wants him to know that he’s here.

“Good morning, Harry.” Louis whispers before he leaves for work, despite the fact that Harry is asleep, body curled up on the couch. His hair is sticking out in all kinds of directions, but his frame twitches and quivers slightly.

Louis gently drapes a blanket over Harry, making sure to cover his entire body. Just as he finishes, Benedict hops up on the couch and curls up next to Harry.

Louis smiles, running his fingers through the dog’s soft fur. “Look after him for me, ok Benny?”

Benny nuzzles closer to Harry’s sleeping body, a protective paw resting on one of his legs.

“Good boy.”

 

||✚||

 

Harry has been sat in the same unmoving position for the past four hours, watching the old grandfather clock in the corner tick and tock and push time along endlessly. The only reason he is awake right now is because he had to pee. And once he did that, he ran out of things to do, ran out of reasons to do much of anything.

Besides sit. In this very spot. Entranced by the _tick tock, tick tock, tick tock_ of time. Has it been seconds, has it been years? Minutes or months? Who knows why the clock turns? Who knows the purpose? How relative this moment is to the next, what holds him captive to this spot…

Time doesn’t feel real, nothing feels real. The only thing Harry knows is real is the constant numbing ache he feels pitted deep and dark in his chest, pulsing on its own, feeding off every will he has left inside.

Harry vaguely registers the front door creak open, sensing the familiar scurry of excited paws clicking against the wood floors to the doorway.

“Hi Benny Boy!” Louis greets warmly, dropping to his knees to fully embrace the oversized puppy. “Yeah, I missed you too, buddy.”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_lAgvch2PE&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR0XAp0JTz0nOe7wo3nkZ6&index=6)

As soon as Harry hears the soft rasp of Louis’ voice echoing through the halls, he feels as though he can breathe just that much easier. Something about knowing he isn’t alone in this house calms him in such understated ways. Harry feels darkest when he’s alone, but there’s a strong light in Louis specifically that calls to him, reminding Harry that one day maybe it might be ok after all.

“How is he today?” Louis asks Benedict, a worried tone falling over his voice. And soon he is walking into the living room, already anticipating Harry’s despondent state of being. “Oh, you’re awake?”

Harry doesn’t move his body, but his eyes meet Louis’ in silence. Honest to god, Harry is eternally grateful for Louis. And he wishes with everything left in him that he could somehow communicate that to him. But everything is so hard. Harry feels trapped within his own body, fighting against his own body, watching the days go by mercilessly wishing it all would _stop_. But it doesn’t stop, it never stops.

Harry is just thankful that Louis never stops either. He never stops trying to get through to Harry or be there for him, but all the while, he never pushes. He never oversteps and Harry loves him for it, truly he does. Louis somehow makes Harry feel slightly in touch with himself again, even if for only short, fleeting moments. It’s something. And Harry may not be able to physically actualize his feelings, but he is so eternally thankful that Louis doesn’t _stop._

“Are you hungry?” Louis wonders, sitting down next to Harry on the couch. “I could go out and pick something up?”

Food isn’t something that appeals to Harry much these days. He’ll eat when he absolutely has to and mostly only due to Louis’ insistence. Harry would have easily let himself starve to death and not think a thing of it. He hardly feels hunger, it seems like a vague secondary ailment to the heavy weight incessantly pulling at his heart.

“I’m feeling kinda like…Mexican food? I’ve been thinking about tacos all damn day. One of my patients today—in the ER—he owns a food truck with, like, different kinds of tacos and shit. And oh my god, it sounded so fucking good, yeah.” Louis ponders out loud, smiling to himself. “I mean…the man literally smelled like tacos! I practically wanted to eat him—eh, that sounds a bit weird. Ok…it’s just—if you smelled him, you’d know what I mean.” Louis laughs a bit to himself, eyes crinkling faintly at the sides.

And god, Harry loves that laugh, loves how light and genuine it sounds falling from Louis’ lips, loves how Louis seems to laugh with his whole face, expressive features morphing around the tinkling, joyous sound. Ordinarily Harry would laugh right along with Louis at that, nearly fall over with a fit of giggles. And he wants to, god, he wants to. But somehow he can’t. He just _can’t_ and everything feels wrong and purposeless. Commanding his body to do anything is nearly impossible, but Louis continues on regardless.

“Or maybe pizza? I could always go for pizza, you know? What do you think, pizza sound good to you?” Louis inquires, glancing curiously at Harry as though he’s been active in the conversation the whole time. “Nah, you’re more of a taco kind of guy if it really came down to it.”

He’s not wrong, Harry did love a good taco once. And if food was an appetizing thing for him, he would definitely go with tacos for dinner.

“Mmm, I thought so. Alright, tacos it is. I wonder if I can get a discount at the taco truck if I say I saved the owner’s life? Well ok...that’s an exaggeration—I just treated his burns from some spilled frying oil, but still…a discount would be nice. I’m very poor after all.”

Harry lips quirk ever so slightly, not even noticeably, but somehow Louis notices nonetheless.

“Was that…a ghost of a… _smile_? Did you just smile at the fact that I’m a poor doctor, H?” Louis beams animatedly, nudging Harry’s shoulder lightly with his own. “I don’t know why that’s always funny to you, but I’ll take it.”

Harry drops his head to rest on Louis’ shoulder nuzzling against him. Louis’ smell, just like his voice, is always an instant source of comfort, clean and a bit spicy from cologne. They sit in silence for a little while, curled up on the couch. Louis wraps his arm around Harry easily, hugging him closer.

Louis pulls Harry out of himself somehow, just by being himself. He doesn’t have to try to get through to Harry, he doesn’t have to put on airs or walk on eggshells. He treats Harry exactly as he always has, even though Harry can’t reciprocate. His spirit is wonderfully unique and kind, compassionate in his actions and always so very caring and Harry thinks that must be the most beautiful thing about him really.

“Hey…um…did you want to maybe…see Avery tomorrow?” Louis asks slowly with caution, after a few minutes of silence between them.

Harry doesn’t answer that either, not because he doesn’t know the answer. He knows that he doesn’t want to see her. He can’t. Every day Louis asks him if he wants to see Gemma’s daughter and every day Harry doesn’t answer. But nonetheless, Louis offers little facts about her, little developmental milestones she is making at the NICU. Louis visits her every single day on Harry’s behalf, making sure she’s not alone in the cruel world she was born into. He tries so hard to keep Harry up to date, to help him find some kind of connection with her. But despite all Louis’ efforts, Harry always zones out, numbing himself against a reality he still is not equipped to face.

“She might make you feel better—maybe…I don’t know…” Louis shrugs a little, running his palm up and down the length of Harry’s shoulder comfortingly. “I um…I was a bit lost at first without…” He pauses, chewing over his words. “…without Gemma around, but visiting Avery…it just…I dunno, it helps—she helps. I know that nothing can ever replace your sister and I know you’re still grieving the loss of her but…” Louis turns his head to look at Harry, and his voice is warm and soft as his lips upturn into a smile. “Oh, she’s so beautiful, Harry. I go in and talk to her and she’s started to recognize my voice, which is so amazing—I’m just in awe of her. And she can finally open her eyes now, she’s getting stronger every day and she’s gotten so big—almost 7 lbs. She’s incredible.”

Once again Harry offers no answer on the matter, feeling as though he is simply watching his life go by while lying trapped within.

“Ok, well there’s no pressure to go in, she’s almost clear to come home anyway.” Louis tells him. “She’s going to be officially discharged in a few days and then you can finally meet her. I think you’ll love her. And I know she’s going to love you.”

 

||☤||

 

Louis walks into the NICU, as he has many times over the past few weeks, but this time isn’t like all the other times. This time Louis won’t leave empty handed, instead he will be carrying home a finally healthy baby girl.

“Hello, Dr. Tomlinson—oh, Mr. Styles isn’t with you?” One of the neonatal nurse asks.

“Erm no, he couldn't make it. He’s feeling...a bit um…ill.” Louis claims slowly, stuffing his hands down in his lab coat pockets. “So I told him I’d take care of everything in his place.”

Louis tried absolutely everything to get Harry to come in with him today, but he repeatedly gave every single excuse in the book. And Louis knows how scary this is, he understands the level of uncertainty Harry’s life has become accustomed to, so Louis didn’t push. Instead he took care of all the paperwork, filling out all the legal forms, only bothering Harry for his signature when necessary.

But this feels different. This feels like a moment Harry should have been apart of. It’s a big deal when a premature infant is able to breathe on their own, fight on their own, _live_ on their own. Harry has already missed so many milestones in Avery’s survival story and this is a tremendous moment of victory. She finally gets to go home and start out her beautiful life.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=auyiYHVPSvM&index=7&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR0XAp0JTz0nOe7wo3nkZ6)

As Louis looks down at her, freed from all the tubings and wirings that he’s become accustom to seeing her hooked up to, he can’t stop his heart from swelling with pride. For such a tiny thing, Avery has come so far already and she is without a doubt the most pure, beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on. Gently Louis picks up her tiny body, cradling her fragile head. Her wide, alert eyes peer back up at him in fascination, recognizing him from all the times he’s come to visit her.

“Hello Avery, hi love.” Louis coos, holding her close to his chest. She’s spent so much time in an incubated case as her systems were given proper time to develop and it’s so good to see her finally thriving on her body’s own volition. “Such a small little thing you are.”

Louis has always had a special love for babies, finding that new baby smell oh so welcoming. He grew up caring for little babies, changing diapers and fixing bottles, such is the life of an older brother. Was. Such _was_ the life.

He quickly clears his mind of his unwelcome thoughts and focuses his attention back on Avery in his arms. She’s such a happy baby, so full of life and joy like a little ball of sunshine.

“You really are quite cute, you know? You’re a little heartbreaker with a smile like that.” Louis bops her little button nose. “Those dimples must be a family trait, it's how all you Styles' steal hearts.” 

Avery beams, the tiniest of tiny little dimples peeking out of her smooth cheeks. She reaches up her small fingers towards him and Louis feels completely enchanted by her. He could call her beautiful again and again and it wouldn’t be nearly enough. Everything about her is delicate and fragile, soft and lovely. Faint freckles pepper her perfectly smooth cheeks, a small birthmark lies just to the left of her gentle hazel eyes, warm like honey.

Looking down at this small life in his arms, innocent and pure but already so strong and brave, untainted by reality, he wants everything for her. Every single good thing this world has to offer, Louis wants it all for Avery. For her to have the best life she possibly can, despite how it may have started out for her. Louis feels overwhelmed by the overpowering determination inside of him to always keep her safe and loved. To protect her and take care of her and ensure that no matter what happens she always knows how important she is.

“But you probably already know just how cute you are, don’t you, baby Aves?” Louis ponders and the new abbreviation of her name. “ _Aves_. I like it. Can I call you Aves? Would that be alright?” 

Avery smiles happily again, all gums and giggles. And it’s almost ridiculous how adorable she is.

“Alright then Aves, it’s settled.” Louis grins, rocking her back and forth in his arms. “You get to come home today, you know? Yep, no more hospitals and strange people poking at you anymore. Well hmm…I take that back. Your uncle or erm…your father now I suppose, yeah—well he’s quite strange. Not the bad kind, the goofy kind, yeah? He’s just a bit weird, but it’s endearing, you know? I like him and I think you’ll like him too, he’s a sweetheart.”  

Avery stares intently at Louis’ face, seeming captivated by his voice. She always falls still whenever he starts to speak, content only to watch him.

“Maybe you can help him, yeah? He’s going through a lot and he…well, he needs love. And you’re practically bursting with it. Aren’t you, Aves?” Louis coos, rubbing her tummy gently. “I wish you’d gotten a chance to meet your mum. She would have adored you—she adored you without even properly meeting you. All she did was gush about you…I miss her terribly.” Louis admits sadly, bowing his head. Gemma was such a dear friend to him. She was a wonderful person and although he feels honored to have known her, he can’t stop wishing that she had more time.

Louis also wishes, even more so now, that Harry came with him to come pick Avery up, so he could have this time with her. He is sure that Avery will help brighten his mood and lift his spirits, how could she not? She’s absolutely delightful, it’s infectious.

And Louis knows just how much Harry loves babies and kids, they’ve talked about it countless times. He always wanted a big family, he dreams of being an active father and giving his kids the experiences he never got to have with his own father. This isn’t how he envisioned becoming a new parent, how could it be? But this little baby girl in Louis’ arms could very well be the start of the beautiful family Harry always dreamed of.

Louis carefully sets about buckling Avery into a brand new baby carrier. Although a sad concept, the NICU is littered with never-been-used, abandoned baby necessities. Carriers, strollers, diaper bags, clothes, blankets, anything a new parent could possibly need, all left behind by once hopeful new parents. Parents that were eager to take their brand new baby home. A baby that, in the long fight to survive, would never see the world outside these hospital walls.

The hospital stores all of these forgotten supplies for future parents in need, often donating them to single parents and families who have fallen on hard times. Louis can think of no better recipient than Harry. Having all the essentials to care for Avery is just one less thing for Harry to worry about and Louis hopes with all his heart that maybe today will be the day Harry finally starts to smile again.

 

||✚||

 

“We’re home!” Louis announces in an animated voice, cradling baby Avery to his chest as he walks into the house. Harry hears him settle in to the house, setting a few things down by the door before venturing through the halls. “Later on, I’ll give you a little tour…but first let’s go find someone who is sooo excited to meet you.”

“Harry! Look who it is!” Louis greets warmly, smiling at him as he maneuvers around the living room to Harry seated on the couch. “Say hi, Avery.” He coos in babyish voice, holding up one of her tiny hands to wave it at Harry.

Harry sits motionless like a stone statue as he observes the small infant. He doesn’t know what to do, it all feels so sudden and overwhelming.

“Do you want to hold her?” Louis offers like it’s so easy. “She’s super sweet and lovable and it’ll be good for you to bond with her.”

“I um…I…” Harry can’t seem to make his arms move or his brain work. What is happening? There is a living and breathing child in Louis’ arms and that child is now _his_. He is meant to raise her and love her and provide for her. But Harry can’t even provide for himself right now, let alone a whole other human life.

_this can’t be real, this isn’t happening_

“Harry, just hold her. It’s ok.” Louis encourages, holding the small child out for him.  

Harry is young. He is _too_ young for this. Too young to be a father, too young for that amount of crippling responsibility. He loves babies, really he does, but it’s not just about holding her, it doesn’t stop there. Harry won’t just hold this little baby girl and then give her back to her parents. No, he is her parent, her _only_ parent. He is the person she will come to rely on for the rest of her life. And that realization renders Harry incapacitated, practically choking.

He doesn’t know what it means to be a parent. How could he? Harry never properly knew his own. He never knew the love of his mother or had the guidance of his father. How can he become something he has never seen in practice?

“H, come on. She’s so sweet and adorable!” Louis enthuses, trying to be helpful and supportive as he bounces Avery. “Look at those little chubby cheeks! Just hold her. It’ll be ok, you’ll love it.” He places the three-month old baby in Harry’s arms, positioning his limbs the correct way. “There you go. Perfect.”

Harry gazes at the baby in his arms for a moment, taking in her tiny developing features. Looking into her eyes too long hurts, physically _hurts_. Tugging sharply at the raw, sore parts of Harry’s broken heart. Her eyes are strikingly similar to his sister’s, warm and syrupy, and her tiny little smile brings out crescent indents that match his own, that match _Gemma’s_ …

He can’t deal with this. Harry can not deal with this right now. He feels his chest build up with sudden panic, anxiousness coursing through his veins until he feels sick with it.

“Here…um…I’m just…um—I’m going to take a shower.” Harry excuses himself, depositing the baby forcefully back into Louis’ arms. He stands quickly to his feet and shuffles out of the room before Louis can question him.

This is too much and it’s happening all too fast. How did he get here? How is he supposed to just accept this as his new life? This isn’t normal. Nothing makes sense and nothing is as it should be and Harry wants no part in it.

 

||☤||

 

From that day on, Harry hardly even so much as looks at Avery. He actively avoids interacting with her beyond what is absolutely necessary. He goes through the motions of caring for her, of course, feeding her, changing her, but it’s all robotic and swift. Cold even. As though looking at her seems to be far too painful for him and the more distance he keeps the easier it is for him.

Louis tries his best to get Harry to spend more time with her, hoping he will take the bait, but he never does. Only ever doing the bare minimum.  

One day Louis comes home from a long shift to the sound of agitated infant cries filling the entire house.  Louis weaves his way through the halls until he reaches the source of the crying in the kitchen.

“Harry?”

He offers no response, standing in the center of the space with Avery wailing angrily in his arms. He doesn’t even seem to be completely aware of where he is, zoning out completely as his baby’s face grows more and more red.

“Harry!” Louis calls again louder, trying to get him to zone back into reality.

“Huh—what?” Harry suddenly snaps out of it, eyes refocusing and looking around like he doesn’t have the faintest idea where he is or how long he has been there.

“You can’t hear her crying?” Louis frowns in concern. He crosses the room to rescue the screaming baby from Harry’s arms, cuddling her against his chest as he rocks her gently. “It’s alright, little love. There, there…shhh. Are you hungry?”

Louis sets about heating the formula bottle, testing the temperature of the milk on his wrist before feeding it to the baby. Her cries die out as she welcomes the bottle. “There you go, Aves. You’re alright.”

Harry looks to Louis oddly, eyes still a bit out of focus, blank expression on his face, brow folded. His whole demeanor screams hopelessly lost, as though he is drowning within the sea of his own life.

“Are you ok, Harry?” Louis worries again, rocking Avery back and forth as he holds the bottle to her mouth.

“I…” Harry shakes his head at a loss, like he hasn’t a clue who he is, let alone how he feels.  

Louis frowns, tilting his head to the side. “I think you should go out for a bit, maybe…clear your head?”

“What?” Harry blinks in a complete daze, arms held limply to his sides.

“Yeah, you’ve been cooped up in here for too long. You should go out and get some fresh air or something. I can watch her for you, yeah?”

“Uh…are you…sure? I mean—”

“Yeah, I love babies and Avery is such sweet girl. I adore her.” Louis smiles down warmly at the baby in his arms. “And I’m just working on charting for the night. I’ll be up anyway.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Harry asks again still looking so despondently lost.

“No, really go. Please go.” Louis insists repeatedly, hardly able to stand the horrid look plastered across Harry’s face. “You need it.”

“Ok…” Harry answers slowly with a slight nod as he starts to stand to his feet. “Thanks Lou…I uh…I owe you…”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Louis gives him an encouraging smile. Hopefully going out will begin to help Harry snap out of the permanent daze he seems to be in.

 

||☤||

 

Harry is long gone by the time Louis finishes feeding Avery. She’s always sleepy after she eats so Louis doesn’t waste any time in putting her down for the night in her newly converted nursery. Before Avery was discharged from the NICU, Louis spent his off days renovating one of the empty bedrooms into a little nursery just for Avery. It’s not state of the art or anything like that, but it has all the essentials since Louis raided the hospital for anything and everything a baby could possibly need.

After Louis is certain that Avery is fast asleep, Louis tiptoes out of the nursery and settles down in the downstairs study, spreading out a thick stack of charts he needs to update. He pulls out his notes from the day and the voice recorder to get started on the exceedingly boring act of charting. He only gets through one patient record when he hears the faint sound of a baby crying wafting around him.

“That was fast.” Louis mumbles to himself as he leaves the study to trudge back up the stairs. He walks into the nursery and over to the crib, leaning over the railing to look down at the small, worked up little girl. “Aves, what is it, baby?”

Louis isn’t quite sure if this is one of those self-soothing moments or if he should pick her up and try to rock her back to sleep. She’s already been fed and given a fresh diaper not even 20 minutes ago, so he has no idea what could possibly be wrong with her.

“Oh it’s ok, it’s ok, little love.” Louis coos softly, rubbing her tummy gently which always calms her down. And as soon as Louis starts talking, she recognizes his voice and slowly stops crying, just blinking up at him peacefully.

“Yeah that’s it baby, you’re ok.” Louis continues to sooth, whispering to her in gentle tones. He continues mumbling calming words to her until she gradually begins to close her eyes. “So you’re alright now, yeah? Because I’ve sadly got a ton of reading to do and I can’t hang out with you right now. No matter how adorable you are.”

“Goodnight Aves.” Louis sets her back into her crib and waits a moment to see if she’ll wake up again. She remains content and asleep so he once again tiptoes out of the room, cracking the door behind him. But he doesn’t make it more than two steps down the hall before she is wailing again.

Louis comes back in the room and leans over the crib again, shaking his head as he looks down at her. “Avery, my love, what’s the matter? Huh, baby?”

Again, the sound of Louis’ cooing voice instantly ceases Avery’s cries, like some kind of magic.

“Oh, so you’re just lonely then?” Louis guesses, smiling a little as he gazes at her. She’s so precious and innocent, Louis feels like he would do anything she ever asked of him. Although she is a baby and can’t verbally ask—but still.

Avery stares back up at him with big, wide hazel eyes, fingers reaching up towards him. 

“Hmm, aren’t we all.” Louis sighs understandingly. He’s been feeling extremely lonely in this house again. Even though Harry is here, he isn’t _here_ and Louis can’t help but feel alone sometimes and it’s not the most welcomed feeling. “I can understand that, Aves. Well…let’s be lonely together then.”

With that, Louis lifts her up out of the crib, settling her on his hip as he walks down the hall to collect his notes and charts from the downstairs study. Avery seems happy perched to his side, observant eyes categorizing his every move in fascination. Once Louis has collected all of his many materials, he carts them and Avery back up the stairs to the nursery.

“You know, you’re the only girl in the world I’d try this hard for.” Louis smiles, settling down in the oddly comfortable, old creaky rocking chair that probably hasn’t been used in ages. It was already in the room when Louis began converting the nursery and he figured it might come in handy and it appears that it finally has. “Must be another Styles’ trait, I suppose. It seems as though I’m easily bewitched by all of you.”

Avery giggles, eyes bright as she stares up.

“Oh, you find that funny, do you?” Louis smiles, leaning down to blow raspberries to her tiny cheeks, which only makes her happily squeal even more. “Of course you do, my little heartbreaker.”

“Alright Aves, as I told you I have a lot of work to do. Are you ready to chart with me?” Louis asks her curiously.

And whether she understands him or not, she smiles all the same and it completely melts Louis’ heart.

“I’ll take your beautiful little toothless smile as a yes.” Louis grins, kissing her cheek before settling her down to one side as he finds a comfortable position in the chair. “What a pair we make, Aves.”

Louis reads his charts and medical journals out loud as he holds her and she just listens to him, perfectly content and at peace in his arms. 

It becomes a bit of a thing between them, Louis spending his free evenings babysitting Avery for Harry. Harry takes to going out more and more and Louis doesn’t quite mind because he really enjoys his time with his favorite girl. Whenever she can’t sleep Louis sits and rocks her in the old rocking chair, reading and studying his charts out loud to soothe her. Usually Benedict will come in the room and curl himself up at Louis’ feet as Louis charts with Avery.

Sometimes he’ll take breaks and just talk to her, about nothing really, about everything too. They understand each other somehow, they need each other. In more ways than one, it seems. Louis talks to Avery, and Avery listens, little fists gripping his shirt in comfort, warm wide honey colored eyes watching in contentment. It easily becomes Louis’ favorite part of the day and he’s always anxious to come home to her.

Every night Louis talks to Avery until she feels safe enough to drift off to sleep and oftentimes it isn’t long until he nods off to sleep right after her.

 

||✚||

 

Harry is barely holding it together, losing himself with every moment that passes. Piece by piece, strand by strand, he is unraveling, coming completely undone at the seams. The weight of grief, the pressure of fatherhood, the unexpected urgency of it all is mercilessly eating him at his core.

And he tries to drink it away, he tries to drown his sorrows in the hot sting of alcohol burning down his throat. He continually chokes back his tears long enough for the buzzing liquid to slide down, hoping that maybe it will help, maybe it’ll change something. But it doesn’t help, it never ever helps and nothing ever changes. Everything is spinning, everything is confusing, blurry, unfocused. He’s in pain—so much pain. Nothing makes sense, nothing at all.

So Harry drinks anyway, despite whatever consequences may come, because how can it possibly get much worse? He drinks to numb the overwhelming ache, but all it does is make everything hurt more, all it does is make everything more confusing.

_i feel better when i drink…_

Everything blurs together and he’s numb. Blissfully numb. And it’s better to be numb, right? It’s better not to feel.

_…i hate myself when i’m drunk._

Anger, all he knows is deep, profound anger, fed by the rush of alcohol. The buzz fuels his rage to the point that he hardly recognizes who he is anymore.

_i feel worse when i drink…_

Clouded, everything is so, so clouded. Dark and murky. He can’t ever tell what’s real and what’s not, everything swirling around him like a fog.

_…i hate myself when i’m sober._

All sobriety brings is clarity and with clarity comes memories and all memories ever bring is pain. Unwanted, raw pain. So the cycle must march on. On and on and _on_ it goes, contorting Harry’s mind and emotions, altering what he can tolerate as reality. And maybe the bad of his actions will outweigh the fleeting good he hopes so desperately to feel or maybe the scale will balance out somewhere in the middle, wherever that may be.

 

 

||☤||

 

Normally when Harry comes home, smelling of vodka and tonic he just collapses on the couch and passes out. Sometimes he’ll even make it back to his room, rarely, but sometimes. He’s been drinking a lot lately, utilizing alcohol as a new coping mechanism to ease the pain. But Louis is certain that it’s not really working, only allowing Harry another way to run and escape from his problems temporarily. Harry leaves at night still hungover and comes back ridiculously drunk, crashing onto a soft surface and blocking the world out until it’s time to repeat the cycle again the next night.

But tonight is different.

Louis just got Avery settled in her crib after rocking her to sleep in his arms for the past hour. His body is so dead tired from the grueling day he had standing in surgery for 10 hours. And he’s got to be back at the hospital again in fewer hours than he cares to admit so he collapses eagerly on his bed, snuggling his head to the pillow and pulling the sheets around his body. Louis lets out a blissful sigh as he immediately starts to drift asleep, when he faintly registers the soft creak of his door opening.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IBicqqc_UWg&index=8&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR0XAp0JTz0nOe7wo3nkZ6)

Silently Harry creeps into his room, sliding right into bed with Louis without apparent rhyme or reason. He wiggles his way against the mattress until his body connects with Louis’ and he cuddles against him soundlessly.

Louis twists around groggily in the sheets to face Harry in the darkness. “Mm…Harry?” He mumbles quietly, heavy eyes hardly open. It’s not unusual for Harry to be in his bed, so Louis doesn’t think much of it.

Harry confirms his presence further still by mutely nuzzling his head into the warm comfort of Louis’ neck.

Louis is barely aware of much of anything, sleepily registering the heat radiating against his skin, the soft puffs of warm breath tickling his neck. “Are…are you ok? What’s wrong?”

Harry still doesn’t say a single word, keeping his head buried against the crook of Louis’ neck. And Louis swears that Harry is smelling him, just breathing him in, somehow finding some kind of much needed peace in his scent. Until Harry’s head tilts up at a new angle and Harry is suddenly mouthing at Louis’ exposed skin. Then another slight slant of his head and he’s kissing up the length of Louis’ neckline. Lips trailing in messy, desperate motions, hands beginning to explore the dips and curves of Louis’ body under the sheets. The warmth of his eager palms rippling across Louis’ tingling skin, every touch is electrifying and suddenly Louis is wide awake, aware of every sensation Harry holds against him.

Harry pushes closer and _closer,_ pressing their bodies flush together. He hooks a leg over Louis’, propelling their pelvises against each other as he continues to trace his adoring mouth along Louis’ skin. A soft unsuspecting moan escapes Louis’ lips in surprise as he revels in the feeling. But at the same time, Louis begins to feel the anguished wetness of Harry’s cheeks against his skin, the feel of silent tears dripping down onto his shoulder.

Louis pulls back, not really knowing how exactly to react. His relationship with Harry, whatever it is, although emotionally charged, has yet to move into the physical realm, all of this is completely uncharted territory. But yet, here Harry is in his bed, absolutely wasted, sucking purposefully on his neck and holding him close as though they are old lovers falling back into practiced routine. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

Harry avoids Louis’ eyes purposefully, fingers still gripping onto Louis’ body urgently. Their faces are so close, only fractions apart, breathing the same air, inhabiting the same space.

Louis cups the sides of Harry’s damp cheeks softly with both hands. “H, talk to me, love. Please.” 

Instead of talking, Harry determinedly dips down a bit more and attaches his lips to the underside of Louis’ jaw again, hands groping his torso in urgency. “You said whatever I need and I need you…” He whispers, almost inaudibly, painfully, against Louis’ exposed neck.

Louis lifts Harry’s face back up, forcing him to meet his eyes in earnest, stroking the sides of his face gently to wipe away his ever falling tears. “This isn’t going to fix it, this—”

“Please, Louis… _please_.” Harry begs desperately, the quiet tears streaming his cheeks are as visible as his constant pain. He moves Louis’ hands from his face, forcibly sliding them down his own abdominals, pressing Louis’ palms flat against his body. He offers himself yearning and aching, preening and craving the independent touch of Louis’ hands. “Please. Just…just touch me. I need you, Lou. Just one night…please...I want you to—I need you…”

Louis wants him, _god_ , he wants Harry so bad. He can’t deny that. Louis has been wanting Harry from the very start. And now he’s right here. Harry is right _here_ , in his bed offering himself willingly, begging for Louis to claim his offer.

Louis has been trying to fight his blossoming feelings for Harry, battling his will daily, just wanting to be a good friend to him in his time of need. Of course he has fantasized about a moment like this, a cherished moment between them, an opportunity for _more_ …but, Louis can’t take advantage of him. Harry is at his very lowest, grieving and broken and he just wants anything to make the pain go away, even for only a moment. Louis knows exactly how that feels. God knows he does—he still gets sharp pangs to his heart thinking about the darkest time of his own life and it’s been years.

As much as Louis wants this with Harry, as much as his body longs for it, it’s not the right time. If this is going to happen, it has to be right, when Harry isn’t piss drunk and desperately wanting to forget. 

Harry is coaxing his hands lower under the cover of Louis’ shirt, ready to dip down into the uncharted waters of Louis’ sweatpants. He continues to lunge at any part of Louis he can get, caressing him in desperation while heavy tears trail his face in silence.

“Harry, I—”

Harry presses his lips to Louis’ suddenly, effectively cutting off his words. And Louis gets completely lost for a moment, finding himself kissing Harry back, allowing himself to revel in the stolen feeling. It feels so _right_ , Louis never wants to stop. His hands hold Harry’s face steady as the kiss deepens, sliding his fingers up to tangle in his hair as their mouths slot together with devout urgency. Harry’s sloppy uncoordinated tongue pushes further past Louis’ lips. So desperate, so needy, so frantic. 

It is a perfect kiss. Flawless and unprecedented…until the poison sets in. 

The bitterness, the despair, and loathing of it all. The realization that this kiss, this perfect, beautiful kiss is rooted in every cruel form of desperate need. The need for escape. The need for deliverance. For relief, for reprieve, for refuge.

_the need, the need, the need._

“It won’t help, it won’t…” Louis whispers breathlessly, drawing back as Harry still reaches, mouth still seeking contact. Louis isn’t sure if Harry actually wants him or he just needs him to fill the void. Underneath all that hurt, does Harry have real feelings for him, or is Louis just ok for right now? Just a temporary fix. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea...”

“Lou, please…I-I’m—” Harry keeps shaking his head, eyes squeezed tightly shut, breath coming raggedly as his hands start to tremble. “Please…p-please…” He’s crying harder now, the emotion catching up with him as new flushes of tears form at the corners of his eyes, streaking in hot stains down his cheeks. “I c-can’t—it _hurts…”_ He starts to curl into himself, fighting his own will, waging war against his own emotions. “I want it t-to go away…I…I just w-want to forget, feel something else—just, just for a little while…p-please…”

Louis watches helplessly as Harry falls apart in front of his very eyes. Having sex right now would ruin them. It would feel great, mind-blowingly amazing, he’s sure, but just like their stolen kiss, the poison will set in. That much is undeniable. Tomorrow, when there is nothing to veil the sobriety, nothing to numb the sting; realization will resurface, regret will lurk like a dark shadow and resentment will take hold of all the trust they’ve built and bury them alive.

“ _Please_.” Harry sobs tragically, folded in on himself as his crumpled frame trembles. He isn’t even asking for sex anymore; he is asking to not hurt anymore. The agony woven into his cries and every choked whimper slices through Louis’ heart.

Unable to take any more of this, Louis pulls Harry snug against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around his quivering frame, running his hands up and down the length of his back. All Louis can do is be there for him, soothe him and hold him until the panic dies down, until the urgency of his pain subsides enough for him to start to function again. “I know, H. I know.” His heart is breaking for this boy in his arms, this sad lost boy. Broken and beaten down. “It’s ok, I’m here. _I’m here_.”

 

||☤||

 

The cycle continues, Harry comes home later and later and sleeps more and more. Harry digs himself further into a comatose grave every day, drifting further and further away from reality and Louis doesn’t know how to reach him. Before, Louis would leave and go to work and Harry would care for Avery during the day, but now Harry just passes out, intoxicated beyond belief, not even aware of his surroundings.

And Louis can’t, in good conscience, leave a baby to fend for herself till he gets home again. His schedule is so wild and hectic, it could be 30+ hours before he walks through those doors again and god only knows what could happen in that amount of time. So Louis soon finds himself with no choice but to take Avery to work with him. 

“Tomlinson…is that a… _baby?_ ” Steve wonders incredulously as if he can’t believe his eyes. He stands at the doorway in front of the intern lockers, holding his usual clipboard. “You have a kid?”

“Well, yes it is…but…um…no…kinda…it’s—it’s um complicated?” Louis rambles, not sure how to best answer that question considering his unique situation. He huddles Avery to his chest, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket as he balances a diaper bag with the other hand. “I um–”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Steve waves off Louis’ jumbled excuse for the sake of time. “We have rounds.”

“Right.” Louis nods once, snapping his mouth shut, adjusting the strap of the heavy bag on his shoulder.

“Tomlinson, you can’t bring a baby into the ICU! Come on! Where is your head?” Steve sighs heavily, hands raised in confusion and frustration. The other interns are all looking at Louis oddly with questioning eyes. Most of them know him well enough to know that the baby in his arms can’t be his, but they don’t dare ask questions right now.

Louis nods again apologetically, rocking the infant against him side to side to keep her from waking up. “I know, I know I’m sorry, I just—”

“There are daycare services provided by the hospital, you know?” Steve continues, cutting Louis off again. He eyes Louis for a moment before walking up to him to speak privately. “Look, I’ll give you a pass just this once, Tomlinson, but don’t make a habit of it. Off the record Louis, I like you…I think you’re a really good guy and a cool person, but as your Chief Resident I can’t go around giving you special treatment. You get where I’m coming from right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I understand. I’m sorry.” Louis apologizes again.

“Good, don’t let it happen again, I don’t want to have to report you.” Steve continues. He waves his hand in a circle motion around Louis and the baby in his arms. “Sort all that out and then report to The Pit.”

Louis nods his head repeatedly. “Yes, sir. Thank you, I’m on it.”

“Don’t let me catch you pushing a damn stroller around on the surgical floor.” Steve warns tersely, eyes narrowed. He stares at Louis for several moments, seeming to wonder why he hasn’t started moving yet. “Now get out of here! Go!”

“Yes. Ok. Right. Ok.” Louis jumps back into action, scrambling off with Avery in tow to find the daycare.

 

||☤||

 

One hour.

One hour, that’s how long Louis is able to go about his work in The Pit until his pager threatens to attack him, buzzing incessantly. He tries to ignore it and keep working but he can’t focus because he knows just who is paging him so urgently.

He checks in with the nurses’ station, spitting off a bullshit excuse about needing to check on labs before bolting down the corridor and downstairs to the daycare.

“Hi, hey—I got your page. Is she ok?” Louis jogs up to the daycare, a bit winded from all the stairs he just blew through.

“I’m so sorry to keep paging you, Dr. Tomlinson, but she won’t stop crying and we were so worried.” The daycare staff member apologizes, holding the screaming infant in question. Avery’s face is bright red, nearly inflamed. “She’s so worked up and fussy, it almost looks like she’s not breathing. She’s too upset.”

“Ok, ok come here, little love.” Louis coddles, pulling the fussy baby into his arms and rocking her against his chest. And like magic, once back safely in Louis’ arms, Avery stops crying, almost like flipping a switch, suddenly perfectly content. 

“Well, look at that…” Another daycare staff girl awes, observing the interaction.

“You’re ok, sweetheart. It’s ok.” Louis whispers softly to her as he bounces Avery gently. Her reddened face gradually begins to return to normal the longer he holds her.

“She’s quite attached to you.” The staff member says in amazement. “We tried everything to get her to calm down Dr. Tomlinson, but she was having none of it.”

“Oh Aves, are you giving them a hard time?” Louis blows a few kisses against her cheeks. “I need you to be good for me ok, little love? I have to go back to work. I’ll be back for you soon, I promise.”

With that Louis kisses the top of her head before attempting to hand her back over to the daycare. He slowly begins to back away, but she starts screaming the moment Louis becomes out of reach, tiny fingers seeking for him once again. 

And Louis doesn’t have the heart to just leave her to suffer, so he rushes back over to his favorite girl. “Ok, ok, ok, you win. Come here, baby.” He snuggles her back into his arms and just like before, she instantaneously falls silent and content. “Avery, my little heartbreaker, what are we going to do with you?”

“That’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like that. Your daughter is beautiful.”

“Oh, she’s not...” Louis starts, about to correct the girl when Avery curls her tiny fingers against his chest, clinging to him. Louis gets a bit lost in his train of thought, gazing down at his little baby and smiling. “Yeah…yeah she is beautiful, isn’t she?”

 

||☤||

 

The next day Louis comes to work with Avery strapped to his chest. He found an abandoned baby harness in the NICU storage and decided it’s his best option right now. He isn’t really sure how it’ll work out, but he’ll just have to spend the day dodging The Chief and also carefully avoiding Steve.

Louis approaches their usual table in the cafeteria and he’s met with curious gazes and blatant stares by all his friends.

“What?” Louis sits down in the empty chair waiting for him, setting about unstrapping Avery from his chest.

“Umm…why do you still have that baby?” Liam speaks up first, holding his fork midair as he watches Louis closely.

“I thought you put her in daycare?” Zayn wonders, making the same face as Liam. “Wait but—is she even _your_ baby?”

Louis sighs, feeling suddenly even more exhausted then he already was. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got at least 10 minutes. Spill.” Zayn insists, sucking on a spoon filled with yogurt. “I love a good story.”

“Who cares whose baby she is, she’s adorable!” Niall gushes, waving at baby Avery and making the goofiest of faces to make her smile. “What’s her name?”

“Avery.” Louis reveals proudly, rubbing her back.

“Avery?” Liam furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Isn’t that—”

“Don’t do that, don’t say it’s a boy’s name, Li.” Louis sighs, interrupting him before he even had a chance. “A name is a name and I quite like it. It suits her.”

“I like it too.” Niall decides, still completely enraptured by the child. He has such a fascination with children, he lights up whenever anyone even mentions a baby. “Can I hold her?” 

“If she’ll let you.” Louis warns, unstrapping her completely from the harness. “She’s very picky about who she lets hold her.”

“Oh well, we will see about that. Babies love me.” Niall readily welcomes Avery into his arms, cradling her against his chest with ease. “Hello, Ms. Avery. Hiii!” He makes even more faces at her, to which Avery just stares quietly, a little tiny indent to her brow. Louis thinks it looks just like Harry’s. “You’re very, very cute. Yes, yes you are.”

“Hmm, well she hasn’t started crying so she must like you at least a little bit.” Louis guesses with a shrug.

“She likes me!” Niall squeals excitedly, looking down at the baby in his arms. “You like me! I passed the test.”

“I think you should join the preschoolers.” Zayn suggests, observing Niall and his pediatric skills from across the table. “It’s definitely your calling.”

“Zayn, there is nothing weak about _Pediatrics_.” Niall corrects, defending the notoriously slandered department. “Working with tiny humans is an honor and I really enjoy it. And not everyone can do it, it’s badass.” 

“Sure, sure.” Zayn nods sarcastically.

“Ok, but am I the only one still wondering whose baby this is?” Liam pipes up again, sipping on the straw of his smoothie.

“Yeah, you got a baby mama we don’t know about, Lou?” Zayn wonders in teasing.

“No, obviously.” Louis rolls his eyes, reaching over to take a few of Niall’s fries. “It’s—remember Gemma?” 

“Yeah, of course, terminal mixed glioma case, right?”

“Right. Well, you know Harry, her brother?” Louis asks next. “I brought him to lunch once.”

“Oh yeah…I liked him…” Niall nods slowly as he remembers. “A cool dude, that guy. I mean, I’ve only talked to him, like, twice when his sister was here, but he was always really nice.”

“Yeah, he’s great.” Louis smiles softly before continuing. “So anyway, he’s been staying with me and when Gemma died, she left the baby to him, but he’s going through a hard time, so I’m just helping him out a bit.”

“Helping him out…” Liam echoes, seeming to process this information.

“Oh, I heard about that.” Zayn nods slowly. “That really sucks. I can’t imagine losing my sister on top of suddenly becoming a dad overnight. That’s a lot, I really feel for him.”

“Wait? He’s staying with you too?” Niall asks, just now catching that part. “Why didn’t we know about this?”

“I dunno? It never came up, I guess?” Louis shrugs. He’s just now starting to get to know his fellow interns on a personal enough level to call them his friends. Considering his life so far, it’s really hard for him to open up to people, which is what makes his easy connection with Harry so special and rare. “He’s been staying with me since the beginning, I thought I told you guys that?”

“No, you didn’t, but that doesn’t matter now.” Liam brushes off, obviously still concerned about the baby. “Ok, so if she is Harry’s baby, why do _you_ have her then? I mean Avery is his responsibility now. So…”

“Look, he just lost his sister, ok?” Louis tries to explain. “They were really close and he’s not taking it very well and he’s...”

“He’s what?” Zayn prompts when Louis falls silent.

“He just…he goes out a lot…I don’t know—he’s coping.” Louis brushes off, shrugging again.

“And coping is code for...drinking, I’m guessing.” Zayn surmises, stealing the rest of Liam’s smoothie.

“Louis, you should call child protective services.” Liam advises seriously, meeting Louis’ eyes. “He’s a drunk and he seems to be neglecting the child.”

“Harry is not a bad person or abusive!” Louis defends instantly, voice raised. “I know he cares about Avery…I know he does, but he’s hurt and he never asked for any of this. It’s really hard for him! I know what he’s going through and it fucking sucks! It’s a lot to adjust to and you feel helpless and nothing makes sense—the least I can do is help. It’s only temporary until he gets back on his feet.”

“Ok, Ok, Lou. Forget I mentioned it. Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you, Liam.” Louis apologizes, instantly regretting his outburst. He knows his friends are just trying to help him. “Thank you for being concerned. But I promise everything is ok.”

“Ok.” Liam nods, backing down. “But you’ll tell us if anything changes right?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll keep you updated. And—oh shit!” Louis curses, looking down at his beeping pager. “It’s Carmichael.” He swishes in his chair to face Niall urgently. “Niall, are you free? Please, _please_ say your free.”

“Uhh, I mean kinda?” Niall shrugs noncommittally as he takes a bite out of his burger. “I’m just running labs for Dr. Lindsay today, waiting for results—”

“Perfect! Here.” Louis eagerly shoves a diaper bag at Niall.

“Wait, what?” Niall looks down at his lap in surprise.

“Carmichael is paging me 911 on her head lac which means I’ve got a surgery to scrub in on and I can’t bring Avery and she likes you and, and—I have to go.” Louis rambles out in a hurry, carefully positioning the baby in question into Niall’s arms. “I’ve already missed so many things because of Avery. I can’t miss this. I’ll flunk out of the program.” 

“Louis—”

“I owe you, I owe you! I’ll do all your rectal exams and enemas for a month!” Louis offers easily, willing to offer just about anything at this point. “Or anything else you want. Pleeease, Niall.”

“Fineee. But only for Avery because she's so, so cute and adorable.” Niall baby talks, blowing on Avery’s chubby little cheeks.

“Thank you, I love you!” Louis plops a dramatic kiss to the top of Niall’s head. “Everything’s in this bag, ok. You shouldn’t have any problems but…you can handle it. I trust you, you’re a doctor.”

“Zayn is also a doctor and I don’t see you trusting him with your baby.” Niall smirks, lifting his head pompously.

“Just another reason why I don’t belong on the baby catcher squad.” Zayn mumbles, rolling his eyes.

 

||☤||

 

The second Louis gets out of surgery, he rushes eagerly to find Niall. He was so distracted during the procedure, hoping that Avery was alright for the past few hours and not giving Niall too hard of a time.

He finds Niall sprawled out on one of the conference room couches, a sleeping Avery resting on his chest, sucking on a pacifier. “Niall! I—”

“Shh!” Niall hushes instantly in a whisper, resting a hand on Avery’s back. “You’ll wake her…”

But obviously it’s too late, it’s no secret that Avery is a notoriously light sleeper. She stirs awake, stretching her little limbs out as Niall sits up, righting himself and the baby in his arms.

Avery sees Louis and automatically starts gurgling and smiling happily, so Louis excitedly walks over to them and lifts her up. “Hi baby girl! I missed you!” He kisses all over her cheeks, nuzzling against her soft skin. “Yes, I did, I missed you so much, Aves! Were you good for Niall?”

“Yeah, she did really good. We had fun today.” Niall smiles, standing up to tickle Avery’s tummy. “Didn’t we, Avery? Yeah, we did.”

Avery giggles around her pacifier, obviously having made a new friend in Niall.

“Ready to go home, little love?” Louis bounces her on his hip, balancing the heavy diaper bag in his other hand. He’s gotten quite good at lugging around baby supplies while keeping Avery content in his arms. It takes a lot of juggling, but he’s basically mastered it. “I can’t thank you enough, Niall. I really owe you.”

“Yeah, mate. No problem.” Niall pats Louis’ shoulder, but there’s a hint of concern in his eye. “Hey, but um…how are you going to manage all this? I mean it doesn’t seem like Harry is ready for the whole dad thing and you can’t balance basically being a single dad as an intern…so…”

Louis sighs, wishing he knew the answer to that himself. Admittedly it’s a lot for him to handle and he was barely making it as an intern before he had a baby strapped to his chest. “I don’t know…I’ll figure something out. I don’t know…”

“I’m just…I’m worried about you, Lou.” Niall admits genuinely. “As your friend, I just want to know that you’re ok. I’ll help as much as I can, but I don’t want to see you fall too far behind.”

“Thanks Niall, I really appreciate it, mate.” Louis feels touched that his friends want to rally around him. It’s nice to have people around that have got his back.

Niall smiles, slinging an arm around Louis’ shoulder. “We’ve gotta stick together if we’re gonna make it though this.”

 

||☤||

 

Niall was right about Harry not being ready. Everyday he gets worse, drawing further into himself and putting more and more pressure on Louis to pick up the slack with Avery. Having a baby is hard enough with two parents, but to pull that load himself, while working the impossible hours he does, is practically suicide. But somehow Louis finds a way to make it work, at least somewhat. Louis gets by using a schedule he developed where Avery goes to daycare for 2 hours in the morning, the max she will stand for, while Louis does his morning rounds and usual intern scut work.

And for the rest of the day, although against his competitive nature, he tries not to offer himself up for any surgical spots with the attendings. Instead he lurks in the background, settling for running labs and doing busy work, things he can easily do with Avery strapped to his chest. And, if he really needs to, for a surgery or something, he can pawn her off to Niall or even Zayn and Liam if he’s lucky, in exchange for doing their charts or scut. It’s not a perfect system, but it works for a while. Or it does until The Chief notices. 

“Fuck, it’s Chief Phillips.” Louis hisses, noticing his signature grey slicked back hair rounding the corner. He looks down anxiously at Avery harnessed to his chest, seeing no possible way to hide her. The panic begins to set in as The Chief looms closer, purposefully approaching the cluster of awaiting interns. Chief Phillips isn’t exactly someone to mess around and joke with, he runs a tight ship and he’s been doing it for the past 40 years. There is no way he is going to let this slide when he finds out, Louis might as well pack his things and leave the program now. Well there goes his career, maybe he can start a daycare of his own or something if this whole medicine thing doesn’t work out.

“Here, stand behind us.” Niall offers instantly, being the best friend Louis could ever ask for. Liam and Zayn nod their heads in immediate agreement, the three of them sheltering both Louis and Avery from view just in the nick of time.

“Alright young doctors, I have an incoming case and I need an intern.” Chief Phillips announces, standing in front of all the first years. “But first, which one of you can tell me the proper medical term for worms presented as cysts in the brain?”

None of the interns raise their hands immediately so of course, Chief Phillips begins to call on them at random, demanding an answer whether they have one or not.

“Horan!” Chief Phillips calls, shifting his steely gaze to Niall.

“Hmm? Uh yes, sir?” Niall stalls, blinking widely.

“An answer please, Dr. Horan.”

“Oh uh…right…ok…” Niall stammers, fish-mouthing without a clue. “Um neurological uh cranioblastowormoma…?”

“No!” Chief Phillips bursts. “Are you just making things up? That’s not even a word, Horan! Go to The Pit!”

Niall nods sheepishly, seeming to have expected that exact reaction.

“Malik!” Chief Phillips barks next, turning towards Zayn for a better response.

“Right—yes, I know this, it’s um…trichinosis?” Zayn tries, voice sounding anxious.

“No, but that’s close.” Chief Phillips considers, accepting Zayn’s answer for now.  

Avery starts giggling against Louis’ chest, squealing as she squirms in her harness. “Shh Aves.” Louis whispers, trying to keep her quiet and hopefully undetected.

“Payne, how about you?” The Chief questions next.

Liam, utterly distracted by Avery behind him, blinks at The Chief like a blank slate. “Um…uh…brain worms?”

 “No Payne. I just said they’re _worms_ in the _brain!_ If you’re going to go basic, at least give me a synonym.” Chief Phillips sighs in disappointment. “You’re on scut today.”

“Erm…sorry, sir.” Liam apologizes with a bowed head. He hasn’t moved yet, still trying to help Louis out by standing in front of him.

Louis is internally praying and hoping that maybe Chief Phillips will miraculously skip over him today or maybe he won’t see him from behind the other interns or maybe—

“Tomlinson!” Chief Phillips barks, looking down at his clipboard. “Do you have an answer for me?”

“Um…” Louis lifts his head, debating whether he should bother saying the right answer. “Neurocysticercosis um sir.”

“Yes exactly, at least one of you interns has a functioning brain. Now, how would you—Tomlinson!” Chief Philips interrupts himself, finally getting a good look at Louis and the little infant attached to him. “Are you running a daycare! This is a hospital, not a playground!” Chief Phillips yells and it’s exactly what Louis was expecting. “I keep hearing rumors but—why on earth is there a baby fastened to your chest?”

“Well…um…” Louis stutters, looking down at the peaceful baby cradled against him. “It’s just that I—”

“Where is your wife?” Chief Phillips questions, interrupting Louis’ blubbering.  

“I don’t…erm have a wife, sir.” Louis tries, although a bit offended by that sexist comment. “She’s not my uhh—”

“A baby out of wedlock. Tomlinson, I didn’t figure you for the type.”

Louis stares blankly, not knowing what to say. “Uhh…”  

Chief Phillips walks up to him and pulls Louis aside to talk to him away from the other doctors. “Look Louis, I’m glad to see you’re such an attentive father, but there is no place for babies in the O.R.”

“Right–I know, sir. Of course.” Louis nods repeatedly, trying to mentally prepare himself to hear The Chief tell him to head to his locker and clean out his things. “You’re absolutely right.”

“You’re a surgeon, son.” The Chief reminds pointedly. “I’ve checked your log recently and you are falling behind the other interns. By now you should have way more hands-on hours and O.R. exposure. This is a very completive program, Tomlinson. You have to keep up or you won’t make it through.” 

“I understand that, sir. I want to be here. I assure you.” Louis promises sincerely.

“You have immense potential, Louis. Unlike many I’ve seen come though here.” Chief Phillips compliments positively. “You’re the most promising intern of your class. You have the intellect and the capacity to make it and from what I’ve seen you have a bright future ahead of you. Don’t waste it.”

Louis blinks back at his boss in surprise, taken off guard by his genuine vote of confidence. It’s rare for any of his supervisors or attendings to rain down praise on an intern, let alone The Chief of Surgery. “Erm…thank you, Chief…I—I won’t let you down, I’ll do better, I promise.” 

“Glad to here it.” Chief Phillips claps a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “Now sort yourself out, get that child to the daycare and then report to Neuro, you’ll be on Dr. Carmichael’s service today.”

“Right, yes sir.”

 

||☤||

 

“Harry?” Louis knocks on Harry’s door, unsurprisingly receiving no answer. He twists the knob, finding the door unlocked. He flips on the light switch and presses inside the dingy bedroom.

Harry is passed out shirtless on the bed, body half tangled up in the sheets. The room smells absolutely foul, rank alcohol reeking the air. There are clothes strewn over the bedside desk and dresser. Old takeout boxes and disregarded trash and junk litter the ground so heavily, Louis can’t even see the carpet. 

Louis carefully maneuvers his way through the bedroom, only stumbling a few times on forgotten shoes and belt buckles. “Hey, Harry.” He looms over the side of the bed, speaking gently.

Harry groans a little, but doesn’t move, face pressed into the mattress with his hair fanned out in a curly mess over his features.

“Harry, I have to talk to you.” Louis tries, speaking at normal volume this time, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s important.”

And it really is, Louis has reached the end of his rope. He can’t do this anymore, it’s not even realistic. Something needs to change.

“Huh…?” Harry grumbles groggily, hardly stirring from sleep. “Hmm? Huh…”

Patience starting to wear thin, Louis gives Harry a shove to his shoulder, jolting his unmoving body. “Harry! Wake up!”

Harry’s frame shakes like a ragdoll, but his eyes still don’t open, he just rolls with the punches. Louis would assume he was totally comatose or maybe even passed out dead if it wasn’t for the little breaths escaping his nostrils.

Louis sighs heavily, releasing Harry only to frown at the bed. An idea comes to him and he quickly leaves the dingy room only to come back a few minutes later with a glass of ice cold water. He pauses a moment before forcing himself to give Harry a dose of tough love, splashing the cool water right over Harry’s face. 

Harry jerks up instantly, eyes wide open, wet hair falling like a dark curtain over his face. “What the fuck, Louis!” He shouts, shaking out his long hair as he hops out of the wet bed.

“We need to talk.” Louis answers simply, watching Harry fluster and shake out his hair. He really didn’t want to do it, but what other choice did he have? A conversation between them is long overdue and if Louis doesn’t make it happen, it never will.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” Harry yells, finding a towel on the ground among the mess and using it to dry off his face.

“I need to talk to you, that what’s wrong with me!” Louis shouts back unapologetically.  “And you’re always passed out or gone somewhere, so I never have the chance!”

Harry scrubs his face, pushing his soggy hair from his eyes. He stands in front of Louis, shrugging in the most uncommitted, apathetic way. “Ok. Fine. So talk then…what?”

Louis sighs, eyeing Harry seriously. “This isn’t working, Harry…”

“What isn’t working?” Harry frowns, an eerie blankness in his eyes.

“This.” Louis gestures around them with both of his raised hands. “I’m happy to help you out—more than happy, really. I know that you’re going through a lot and I want to be here for you the best that I can. I love watching Avery and taking care of her and everything, but you have to at least meet me halfway here.” 

“Why?” Harry shrugs again, seeming to lose interest in the conversation as he carelessly brushes past Louis and out the bedroom door.

 _“Why?!”_ Louis echoes in pure disbelief, following Harry down the hall. “Harry, you can’t be serious…”

Harry sighs—maybe even groans, annoyance coating his voice. “I mean…you’re doing such a great job.”

“Wha…” Louis starts to question, voice fading out at a genuine loss. He stares blankly at Harry for a few moments, mouth slack, before he snaps back. He knows Harry isn’t himself right now, but Louis can’t just sit back and take this. “You can’t just treat me like a nanny! I’m a doctor, I have a _job_! Which is a lot more than I can say about you at the moment! I’m falling behind in my class and I can’t do this anymore.” 

“Well what do you want me to do about it!?” Harry spins around on his heel to yell, features pulled into a frown.

“You’re a father, Harry!” Louis reminds in a raised tone. If Harry wants to yell, he can certainly yell too. “A _father_! And I know you didn’t plan on it, but that’s how it is and—”

“No!” Harry screams back, voice suddenly filled with latent anger. “No! I’m not a fucking father! I’m not!”

“Oh, grow the fuck up!” Louis bursts, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Excuse me?!”

“You go out nearly every night and get shitface drunk and sleep the day away when you have responsibilities! When you have a child that is depending on you!” Louis shouts, getting his frustrations out. “I get that people need time to grieve, I get that more than anyone! I’ve been there! But at some point you have to suck it up and move on! I know it’s a lot of changes all at once, but you aren’t even trying!”

“I’m not trying! I’m not _trying_?! Oh fuck you, Louis.” Harry grunts, turning away from him again.

At the sound of all the unusual shouting, Avery starts crying in the distance, probably wide awake in her crib. The cries echo through the house, surrounding Harry and Louis.

“For her. For Avery, you need to fucking get your shit together.” Louis tells him, already on his way to soothe the aggravated infant. “She deserves better from you.”

“I don’t owe her anything.” Harry spits bitterly. “She doesn’t deserve anything from me.”

“Look Harry, I know you’re mad at everything, but that baby in there hasn’t done a single thing wrong. She is innocent in every way and I won’t let you project your frustration towards the situation at her.” Louis says, moving back down the hall towards Harry again.

Harry breathes heavily, looking like he can hardly stand up on his own two feet for much longer. And before Louis knows it, Harry is sobbing, entire face cracking right down the middle. He hunches over against himself, about to fall over, but Louis rushes over to catch him in his arms. Louis holds Harry up, allowing him to weep tragically against his shoulder.

“Harry.” Louis starts softly, but Harry just shakes his head repeatedly, tears pouring profusely from his eyes and it breaks Louis’ heart. “Harry, I know you don’t want to hear it.”

Harry continues to whip his head to and fro, fighting to free himself from Louis’ hold around him as though he knows what Louis is about to say. His body jolts, tremoring in mighty shakes as his sobs grow stronger.

“But it’s been almost 7 months since Gemma di—”

“Don’t say it! Stop!” Harry screams painfully, pulling away from Louis completely.

“Harry, she is gone. You can’t lie to yourself or wish it away. Your sister is gone.” Louis continues, head tilted. He knows how hard it is to hear those words, to accept those words. He knows just how jarring and painful it can be to accept reality. “You have to start to move on with your life. She wouldn’t want this for you.”

“Shut up!” Harry shrieks angrily, tears in his eyes.

“Oh I know, H. I know it hurts. I know.” Louis speaks in the gentlest of tones, trying to keep himself together for Harry’s sake. He wants to fall down and cry along with Harry, grieve and scream about how cruel life is but he can’t—he won’t. “It’s hard and it fucking hurts, but you have to find it within yourself to start to piece your life back together. I know you don’t want to, I know it seems easier to never move on, but you have to, Harry, you have to. You have a baby to think about now and—”

“She’s not my baby! I don’t want her! I didn’t ask for her! She’s not _mine_!” Harry screams resentfully, eyes rimmed with a furious red. “I don’t have a fucking baby!”

Louis slowly takes a marginal step closer, eyes sad but soft as he continues to try and get through to Harry any way he can. “Avery needs family right now. She doesn’t have a mother anymore, she has you. And she needs you—Harry she needs you so much.”

“I don’t care…” Harry mumbles quietly to the ground and Louis knows he’s not speaking the truth. He can see it in the hesitance of Harry’s tone and the flicker of doubt in his eye.

Louis takes another small step closer, speaking as though he might spook him if he talks too loudly. “Harry, you don’t mean that—”

“Don’t tell me what I mean!” Harry yells again angrily, eyes red.

He looks so broken, the pain he carries spilling from the corners of his eyes. And Louis truly hurts for Harry, his heart goes out to him, over and over and over again. He wishes Harry didn’t have to feel this, didn’t have to work through all the harrowing agony surrounding him. There’s not only pain in his eyes, but fear. He’s scared and rightfully so. Everything about his future is uncertain and new, which makes it so much easier to want to cling to the past. Hold onto an ideal he knows, a way of life he remembers.

“Gemma was everything to you, I’m so sorry she’s gone, I’m sorry you lost her. Everyday I…I wish with all my heart that it was different. It’s not fair, nothing is fair and I’m so sorry. I know you’re scared right now and I know everything seems overwhelming and terrifying but this is her daughter, Harry. The very last piece of her and although you didn’t plan this for your life, she left Avery to you, in your care. Just because you didn’t expect it, doesn’t mean it can’t turn out for good. Beautiful, _beautiful_ good.” Louis talks so gently, trying to choose his words wisely to reach Harry in this fragile state of mind. “I know how much Gemma meant to you, how much you loved her—”

“I don’t need you to tell me how I felt about _my_ sister!” Harry shouts bitterly, interrupting Louis with his shouts. “I don’t fucking need it! And I don’t need your sympathy, ok! I don’t need any of it!”

“Harry, I didn’t mean—”

“You know what? I’m just gonna go.” Harry announces suddenly, an odd determination lighting his features.

“What?” Louis blinks back in stunned surprise, not even sure that he heard Harry right.

“Yeah, this isn’t working. You said you can’t raise her for me and I’m obviously a _huge_ fucking inconvenience in your life…so why should I stay here? What is the goddamn point of it all?”

“You are not an inconvenience. I never said you had to leave, I only said that I need you to start taking more responsibility for your life. You are better than this, Harry.” Louis tries, moving closer to him once more. “I want you to stay and—” 

“Stay so what?!” Harry jumps to interrupt again. “You can judge me every goddamn day!?”

“Harry, I only want to help you. I’m not judging you at all. I could never. You know me, you know I would never judge anything about you.” Louis promises genuinely, but Harry still doesn’t seem to be hearing him. “I really care about you and—”

“I can’t deal with this!” Harry groans, hands angrily scraping against his scalp as though deeply tormented. “I can’t deal with my dead sister and this baby and you riding my ass too! I _can’t_! I’ve got to get out of here!”

“What?” Louis questions again in genuine confusion, eyebrows pulled with worry. “Harry, where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.” Harry decides strongly, turning towards the hallway again. “I don’t need this. I don’t need you.”

“H, it’s nearly two in the morning! You don’t have anywhere to go!” Louis shouts, trying to get Harry’s attention. “Harry! _Harry_!”

Harry storms off down the hall, blatantly ignoring all Louis’ calls. Avery is still wailing in the background from her nursery, which happens to be just where Harry is headed.

“You can’t just take her!” Louis rushes to follow behind Harry.

“I’ll do what I want, Louis!” Harry spins around to yell. “She’s _my_ responsibility remember! Not your problem anymore!”

“Harry, how are you going to _responsibly_ take care of her!? You don’t even have a job!”

“I still have the rest of my parent’s money…it’ll be enough until I start working. I’ll figure it out!”

“But…you can’t drive!” Louis shouts, saying anything that comes to mind to get Harry to stop and think about what he’s doing. “You can’t drive, you don’t have a car.”

“I’ll call for a cab.” Harry adjusts, not stopping.

“And go _where_!?” Louis yells, placing a hand on Harry’s arm. “You aren’t thinking clearly! You’re hungover and angry and emotional and you need to calm down and think this through.”

“Stop telling me what to do, Louis!” Harry bursts in blind defiance, yanking his arm away. “Just shut up and let me go!”

“Oh my god, Harry! Just stop and listen to yourself for fucks sake! What the hell is wrong with you!?”

“You!” Harry roars right in Louis’ face. “You’re what’s wrong with me! You and your self-righteous nagging!”

“Harry, please...” Louis begs gently, willing that the real Harry make an appearance. The kindhearted, funny, sweet boy that rambles in French sometimes without realizing it. The boy that loves to wake him up at the crack of dawn to share his weird ideas when he can’t sleep. The boy who has a huge soft spot for dogs with sad eyes. The boy who bashfully shared his personal list of dreams for his future life. This is not Harry. This is not him, but he is somewhere inside the angry and hurt shell of a man standing before Louis and Louis would do nearly anything to bring him back. “I’m really not trying to tell you how to live, H. I’m not, I promise I’m not. I’m just saying—”

“Stop saying! Stop saying anything! I don’t want to hear it anymore!” Harry shakes his head repeatedly, shutting Louis out. “I’m leaving!”

“I can’t just let you leave—” 

“Well, it’s not up to you now, is it?” Harry throws back heading towards Avery’s nursery, her cries still filling up the house.

“Wait!” Louis runs up behind him and stands in front of the door to her nursery, eyeing Harry openly. “Just let me at least have a moment to say goodbye to her.”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fu2gxZDquzA&index=9&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR0XAp0JTz0nOe7wo3nkZ6)

“Fine.” Harry huffs, brushing past Louis towards his own room.

Louis takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself before he enters Avery’s room. His hand shakes as he turns the doorknob and his heart races as he slowly approaches the crib holding his favorite girl. “Oh, hi Aves. Hi baby…it’s ok, little love.” Louis lifts her up and cradles her snuggly in his arms. “Shh it’s ok. You’re ok, I’m here. I’m right here.” He bounces her gently, soothing the baby until her cries settle down.

“You’re the sweetest little thing.” Louis whispers softly, cheek pressed to the top of her head as he holds her close. She’s got that sweet, sweet baby smell, pure and welcomed. A smell he’s grown so accustomed to over the past 7 months since she was born into his life. “I’m going to miss you so, so much.”

He sways with her softly, rocking side to side on his feet. He has come to see her as more than just any other baby, she’s a part of him. She’s everything to him. This gentle little baby has somehow wiggled herself right into the makings of his heart.

“It’s not goodbye forever, ok? It’s not. I promise.” Louis cuddles her close, trying so hard to keep his voice even because he knows it might startle her if he sounds off. Babies are so intuitive in that way, and Avery has always been drawn to the sound his voice for some reason. “We’ll see each other again.”

Louis’ voice cracks a bit as he speaks and Avery seems to sense that something is different. It doesn’t take very long for her cries to start up again, tiny face quickly turning an angry red as she gets worked up.

“Yeah I know sweetheart, I know.” Louis breathes against her, shutting his eyes for a moment, willing his own heart to calm down. “But it’s all going to be ok. You’ll be ok, little love. You’re a fighter. Just like your mum. Everything is going to be ok.” 

Avery continues to cry nonetheless, chubby cheeks growing redder and redder. Louis rubs her back in slow circles just like she likes, holding her right up to his chest.

“Oh, please don’t cry baby, you won’t be gone for long…” Louis tries, and he sincerely hopes it to be true. That hopefully Harry will sober up and see reason, that maybe he’ll wake up from the sleepwalking state he’s in and come back to Louis.

“And I promise I’ll never forget you while we’re apart. You always be my Aves.” Louis presses his lips to her tiny forehead tenderly. “No matter what.”

He kneels down and gently places Avery in her baby carrier by the door, buckling her little arms and legs into the portable seat. Her eyes are wide with uncertainty, cheeks still flushed from all of her crying.

When Louis is done, he sits back on his heels and just smiles at her, committing to memory all the little details about her that make her his Aves. “Ok love, now show me that little heartbreaker smile.” He gives her tummy a little tickle, blowing soft raspberries to her neck and cheeks. “Come on baby girl, smile for me please.”

Avery’s tiny face breaks with a cute little giggle, lips upturning in a gummy smile as she beams up at him.

“Aww, there it is.” Louis whispers quietly, smiling back. Although his smile is cracked and broken. It’s worried and it’s strained. He doesn’t want to let her go, he doesn’t want Harry to leave. He never envisioned this conversation turning out like this, how could he have ever predicted something like this? This all feels impossibly wrong and Louis doesn’t know what he can do to stop it.

“Give her to me.” Harry says suddenly as he walks into the room, duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “My cab is here.”

“Bye, Aves. I’ll miss you, my love.” Louis murmurs, leaning in to kiss her cheek one last time. He stands to his feet, lifting the handle of the baby car seat and slowly handing it over to Harry.

Avery goes back to screaming instantly, wailing and squirming from the seat suspended in Harry’s gasp. Harry looks down at her as though he is paralyzed. Louis can see the fear and the doubt manifesting in his gaze, but then Harry takes a deep breath, shaking himself out before turning to leave the nursery.

“Wait, take this.” Louis picks up the diaper bag that he takes with him to work everyday. “It...um…it has her favorite blanket in it and um...her little stuffed walrus that she likes to cuddle with—especially after she first wakes up from her nap. And there’s a…um nursery book that I read to her when she’s restless…she likes the one about the three little bears…I don’t know why though, but…it works every time.” Louis rambles in explanation, trying so hard to keep his voice even. “And um…s-she has two different pacifiers but…she only likes the blue one with the little birdie on it, the other one she’ll just spit out or uh throw it on the floor.” He lets out a sad laugh, running his hand through his hair. “And there’s also some essentials in there, diapers and food and stuff…”

“Yeah, thanks…” Harry mumbles, expression utterly overwhelmed. His features are weighed down by what looks to be sudden anxiety and apprehension.

Louis touches Harry’s arm gently, meeting his eyes in pleading, hoping somehow he can convince him to stay. “Harry, you really don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do.” Harry shrugs away from Louis’ touch defiantly. He turns on his heel and exits the room, carrying the crying baby down the stairs. Avery’s loud cries are mixed with Benedict’s incessant barking, sounds of distress echoing throughout the home.

Louis quickly follows right behind Harry, not giving up as he trails him to the front door of the house. “No, you don’t, Harry. Really, you don’t. I don’t want you to—”

“Look, thank you for all you’ve done.” Harry interrupts, not even turning around as he opens up the front door and walks right out to the porch. “You did more than you ever had to for me. I’m sorry that I fucked up your life. I’m sorry for being a burden—I’m sorry…”

“No, Harry…it’s not like that, you aren’t a burden. Just listen to me, ok?” Louis tries, stumbling behind him. He doesn’t even bother to close the front door, causing Benedict to run right out, barking relentlessly at Harry.

“Now you’re off the hook and you can become a world class surgeon and save millions of lives and there is no one to hold you back.” Harry keeps on talking as he continues down the driveway towards his awaiting cab. He is so blinded by the severity of his pain, blocking his emotions out so much he can’t even gage reality, or even begin to measure the weight of his actions.

The late night sky above them looks sick, angry with misery, a storm brewing in the dark clouds. The heavy air is fogged, mirroring the drifting contents of Louis’ muddled brain. He is nearly choking with uncertainty, uneasiness washing over him like the raindrops starting to fall from the dreary sky.

“Harry, please! Listen to me!” Louis begs desperately, watching Harry strap Avery’s car seat into the back of the cab. “I want you to stay—”

“You really are an incredible person, Louis…and I know you’ll do great things.” Harry mumbles genuinely, turning away from the car to finally face Louis. He pauses for a moment, searching Louis’ eyes thoughtfully. “I’ll always be glad I met you.”

Louis shakes his head wildly, the conclusiveness of Harry’s words beginning to take shape in his heart. This can’t be the end for them, this can’t be how it _ends_. It’s so unfinished, there is so much more between them, Louis knows it, he feels it. “Harry, no wait, I lov—” 

“Bye Louis.” Harry cuts him off before he can finish, breaking their gaze. He hurriedly slides into the cab, shutting the door behind him.

Shutting Louis out.

Louis stands on the curb in front of his house long after the taxi has pulled away, but he can’t will his body to move. Everything trapped inside him feels numb and void, shocked beyond belief, beyond understanding. There is only one other time in his entire life when Louis has felt this before.

That empty, cruelly hollow feeling. And maybe since it’s not a new feeling to Louis, he can feel it and recognize it that much stronger, that much faster. He can feel it rising up like the tide threatening to consume him with one mighty blow. Emptiness opening up in his chest like a black hole, destroying all that Louis had spent years building up in himself again, annihilating all the progress he’s made.

How is it that in every version of his life, no matter how hard he fights, no matter how much he tries, Louis always seems to end up back where he started.

Alone.

Louis let Harry in and he left. Harry actually left him.

He left the searing gaze in his eye like raging burns to Louis’ flesh. He left his broken kiss like a bruise to Louis’ lips. He left his needy touch like imprints tattooed to Louis’ skin. Permanent scars carved like war wounds decorating the invisible battleground of Louis’ body. A badge of honor, a badge of shame. Both somehow one in the same.

On that curb, Louis stands, like a statue frozen in time, held hostage in a standstill, staring down an empty street. Waiting for oncoming headlights to blind him, waiting for tires to screech to a halt, waiting for a car door to fly open, waiting for a boy to run back into his arms.

He can keep waiting, he can keep on waiting forever, but Louis knows the longer he waits, the more it’s going to hurt when he final turns away. When he finally accepts the cruel reality that once again he is all alone in the world. Completely alone.

_don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…_


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heres [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvjOekjhf5G6YJsJvFkXmFb) for this chapter, even though there's only three songs in this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi loves! thanks for all the lovely comments and support i really appreciate every single last one! :) im sorry for breaking so many hearts and i wish i could say that i won't anymore but with 17 more chapters i'd obviously be lying. anyway i hope you enjoy this chapter! :')
> 
> love lex .x

_feel it beat._

|☤| 

eight years later.

 

“Morning, Carrie!” Louis waves at the young college age kid behind the counter as he strolls into the hospital gift shop.

“Hey, Dr. T!” Carrie greets back warmly. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too.” Louis smiles, leaning up against the front desk. “How are you today?”

“I’m good. Same old, same old.” Carrie shrugs a bit.

“I feel that.” Louis nods, blowing out a stream of air. “And how’s your mum doing?”

“She’s really good, thanks.” Carrie smiles. “She asks about you and she always says to tell you to stop working so much.”

Louis laughs a little, shaking his head. Last spring, he met Carrie when he treated her mother for severe epileptic episodes with a temporal lobectomy. But with a condition so severe, her mum couldn’t work as much anymore and Carrie didn’t have a job. Louis really felt for them, so he pulled a few strings to get her a job in the gift shop. That way she can help her mum out while she finishes school.

“Slow day here too?” Louis looks about the small store briefly, only noticing a family picking out flowers and an older man filtering through assorted get well balloons.

Louis has been here since six this morning for a quick outpatient procedure, but once that he was over, Louis realized that he had a bit of time to kill. A lot of time in fact, because when he checked the O.R. board he was surprised to find that he has not one single surgery scheduled for today. Which is odd because he’s usually overbooked or jumping from one O.R. to the next, but not today. It’s a slow day and Louis hates slow days. Everyone knows that nothing good ever happens on a slow day. It’s basically asking for trouble.

“Yeah it’s been slow, but it’ll probably pick up by lunchtime.” Carrie guesses, shrugging.

Louis nods, still leaning over the counter, not in any sort of rush. “I see you’ve already started decorating for Christmas in here, even though it’s barely November.”

“It’s a gift shop, we have to be festive, Dr. T. And it puts people in a better mood while they’re here.” Carrie explains with a smile. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you in here today?”

“I’m here to get my fix, you know that.” Louis laughs a bit as though it’s obvious. “The gift shop has the best candy in the hospital, it’s just a fact.”

“You say that every time, but I still don’t understand how that can be true. What about the cafeteria?”

“It is _true_!” Louis defends, leaning in over the counter to whisper. “You didn’t hear it from me, but the cafeteria is shit—just absolute shit. At least in the candy department.”

The gift shop is the only place in the hospital where he can find not only the Original Skittles but the Tropical flavored ones _and_ the Mixed Berry ones _and_ the Sour ones _and_ even the newer Brightside ones. And sometimes Louis just likes a little variety in his Skittles options, break the monotony and all that. Yes, they’re a little overpriced, as is everything in the hospital, but he can pay for it with the quick scan of his I.D. badge so it’s convenient and therefore worth it in Louis’ book.

Carrie laughs at him, rolling her eyes.

“Honestly Carrie, I don’t know why on earth I put up with it.” Louis sighs dramatically. “I should quit and work at a hospital that knows what’s _really_ important.”

“Candy?”

“Candy.” Louis smiles, always loving to tease. He rounds the register towards the prized candy display on the side wall of the shop, singling out the Skittles. A few years ago he discovered the art that is mixing Skittles packets. One bag of Skittles is great and all, but two bags? Two different flavors? Mixed together? A gift from god.

After a minute of deliberation, Louis decides to go for Sour and Tropical today, snatching up a green and a blue Skittles packet.

“I thought doctors were supposed to be healthy…” Carrie teases as she rings up both candies.

Louis tugs on his badge so she can scan it. “How would you feel if I said that doctors only appear to be health conscientious, but in actuality it’s all a façade and we actually have many, _many_ unhealthy vices.”

“I would probably feel lied to.” Carrie decides after a beat.

“Well…” Louis smiles knowingly, winking at her. “Until tomorrow, Carrie. Or later today depending on how my day goes. You never know when you need to taste the rainbow.”

Carrie laughs, shaking her head before waving him off. “Until next time then.”

Louis leaves the gift shop and takes his sweet time walking through the hospital to his floor, chatting with a few colleagues on his way. He makes it to the surgical floor twenty minutes later, strolling over to the nurses’ station where Liam is tapping away on a tablet. Louis props his arms up on the ledge as he tears open both packets of Skittles.

“Skittles?” Louis offers, leaning into Liam.

Liam glances towards him briefly. “Why do you have two different ones open? Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Don’t ask me questions, Liam.” Louis sighs in irritation. “Just take a few from each and let it change your life.”

“But I don’t like mixing things.” Liam scrunches his nose while shaking his head.

“ _Liam_ , they’re meant to be mixed!” Louis insists; he’s extremely passionate about this.

“No, they aren’t, otherwise they would have sold them premixed!” Liam argues back. “You have such a weird habit of mixing things that don’t belong together.”

“You’re no fun.” Louis frowns, taking both of the packets back protectively like they’re his children. “No more Skittles for you.”

“I never wanted your mixed Skittles anyway.” Liam states, practically turning his nose up. “It’s 9 A.M., did you even eat a real breakfast?”

“I had coffee and now I’m having Skittles.” Louis shrugs, popping a few more in his mouth. “Breakfast.”

“That’s not breakfast, Lou.” Liam mothers in total disapproval.

“It’s _my_ breakfast. I don’t tell you how to start your morning.”

Liam sighs, rolling his eyes and going back to his tablet. It’s a usual way to kick off the morning, bickering with Liam, teasing Liam, bothering Liam. All vital components of one of Louis’ many pastimes, because at the end of the day, he loves Liam.

Louis drops himself down in a neglected wheelchair, rocking himself back and forth as he happily munches on his Sour and Tropical Skittles.

“You look like a little kid.” Liam comments, glancing at Louis.

“Never let the kid in you die, Liam. Stay youthful.” Louis says, unbothered and completely invested in his candy. “Speaking of which, I was thinking and how about we play a game of hooky today?”

“Um...can you even do that?” Liam wonders, tapping away at the screen in his hand, updating charts. “Don’t you have a department to run as Head of Neuro? Or something like that?”

“Well Payno, it’s actually because of that nifty little title that I can.” Louis pockets the rest of his candy and starts rolling the wheels backwards, trying with focused concentration to pop a wheelie. “Being in charge means I can do whatever I please, whenever I please.”

Dr. Carmichael had moved on to work at Mayo Clinic just after Louis completed his Neurosurgery fellowship. She stuck around long enough to groom him to take over her position as the head of the department, treating him as her prized protégé. Louis considers her a dear friend as well as a mentor and they still keep in touch and run new ideas by each other.

“I don’t know how you get away with half of the shit you get away with.” Liam comments. “I’m not even in charge of my department and I’m always swamped.”

“Because I’m me and you’re you.” Louis grins cutely, spinning his wheelchair right up to Liam.

Liam turns to bend down and push Louis as hard as he can, propelling the wheelchair all the way down the hallway.

“Damn you, Liaaam!” Louis shouts as he soars down the hall unexpectedly.

He wheels himself back up the hallway to the nurses’ station, purposely bumping right into Liam’s shins.

“Ow!” Liam complains, looking down at Louis in the wheelchair. “How did you get back so fast, I pushed you really far!”

“I’ve got skills.” Louis smirks, with a mischievous grin. “Anyway Li, think of it as taking a sick day. When’s the last time you took a day off?”

“When’s the last time _you_ took a day off?” Liam shoots back, knowing fully well that Louis is basically the definition of a workaholic, hardly ever leaving the hospital.

“I don’t know! That’s why you should play hooky with me!”

“Where is this even coming from? Don’t you have patients?” Liam asks incredulously, sporting another frown.

Truthfully, Louis doesn’t know where exactly it’s coming from. But frankly it doesn’t quite matter because it’s a brilliant idea.

“Well Payno, I’m _such_ a good doctor that all of my patients have been treated and are thriving.” Louis brags in a joking kind of way. “And…it’s a slow day. I’ve tried to lend a hand in The Pit but there’s no Neuro traumas and the O.R. board is completely clear—I literally have nothing to do with myself! Come on Liam, just think of the fun we could have with a hooky day!”

“Hooky? Mmm I totally would, bro. You know I would. But I can’t.” Zayn grumbles, sounding a bit bitter as he walks up to the station, leaning himself over the counter. “I’ve got a skills lab to run or whatever. Unless you wanna do it for me?”

“Oh? _You_? Really?” Louis scoffs with a belittling laugh, knowing fully well that his friend has a serious aversion to teaching the residents. “Giving back to the upcoming doctors of tomorrow and _teaching_? Impossible. I don’t believe it.”

“Shut up.” Zayn shoves Louis lightly.

“I love teaching skills labs.” Liam pipes up cheerfully. “The interns and residents are all so eager to learn, and we have so much to give and teach them. And it helps us brush up on basic skills. It’s a beautiful win-win, really.”

“That must be why all the kiss-ups request to be on your service.” Zayn rolls his eyes, unamused. “I always wondered why anyone would volunteer to be on Ortho when Plastics exists.”

“Our specialties go hand in hand you know?” Liam defends, sounding offended.

“Yeah, yeah I know, but one is just far more refined and dignified.” Zayn holds his head up indignantly.

Liam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Orthopedics.”

“Ha!” Zayn mocks, scoffing to himself. “As if.”

“Ok, you both can stop your useless argument right there. We all know that Neuro is king of all surgical specialties. That is just a fact.” Louis asserts, proudly defending his department as he continues to roll around in the wheelchair. “Let’s not even pretend like this is even a worthy debate.”

Liam and Zayn immediately both begin to protest over each other, riddling off reasons why they each are so vital to medicine.

“I’m sorry—remind me, what are you without a brain, again?” Louis yells over their bickering, cupping his own hand over his ear tauntingly, waiting for a response. “Oh! That’s right, nothing! A pretty face…” He gestures to Zayn. “And functioning limbs…” He points another hand to Liam “Are utterly useless without a brain so…”

“Ugh, whatever, _fine_.” Zayn shrugs begrudgingly, leaning back against Liam. “I’m still better than Li, though.”

“Oh please.” Liam scoffs, but it has an air of flirtation in it.

“Are you guys…like…on?” Louis narrows his eyes between them curiously. Over the years, Zayn and Liam have had an ongoing fling. Louis can never keep up with when they’re on or off because it changes like the wind. They bicker and argue incessantly; they’re complete opposites, except that they’re not. Some days Liam looks at Zayn like he would give up the world for him in an instant and then sometimes Zayn smiles at Liam like he would drop everything at a moments notice and move to the countryside and raise a chicken farm with him. It’s weird and confusing, but Louis is sort of rooting for them.

Liam and Zayn share a long look at each other and that’s really all Louis needs as a confirmation.

“So that’s clearly a yes. When will you just give in and marry each other already?” Louis jokes with an underlying tone of seriousness.

“We’re work husbands, not real husbands.” Zayn explains casually.

“What does that even mean?” Louis laughs outright.

“Zayn is my work husband. We work well together and we have a lot of mutual cases together.” Liam explains easily, wrapping one arm around around Zayn. “We’re happily work married. We can’t be married _married_ too. It’d be weird.”

“So…you just fuck each other on the side then?” Louis questions, eyeing them skeptically.

“Yeah exactly.” Zayn turns and plants a loud, obnoxious kiss to Liam’s temple.

“I’ll pray for you both. That you find peace in your sad life.” Louis smirks, biting back a teasing smile.

“Shut up, Tomlinson.” Zayn shoves Louis’ wheelchair lightly, laughing.

“Zaaayn, be the rebel you are and skip work with me!” Louis begs again, rolling right up to him.

“Bro, I just told you I would! You know I’m good for it.” Zayn promises, sitting down on Louis’ lap. “But Aoki has been riding my ass hard about teaching and shit, I guess I haven’t logged nearly enough credible teaching hours and my student reviews ‘don’t speak highly of my educational adequacy.’ Zayn quotes, tone dripping with cynicism. “Whatever the fuck that means. A craft like mine can’t be taught.”

“So...?” Louis frowns, looking up at him in question. “How exactly did you learn then? If it can’t be taught?”

“Some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.” Zayn recites poetically. “I happen to be all three.” 

“Well certainly someone so _great_ could offer some greatness to the residents.” Chief Aoki comes up behind Zayn slowly, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh hey Chiefy Chief.” Zayn slides off Louis’ lap to bump shoulders with Steve, smiling playfully. “I was just talking about you.”

“Yes, I heard all about how hard I’ve been riding your ass.” Steve purses his lips.

“In a good way.” Zayn jokes with a smile, trying to smooth things over. Messing around with Steve has become one of Zayn’s favorite work day hobbies.

Steve was offered the position of Chief of Surgery after Chief Phillips retired, and he differently isn’t like any of the chiefs that came before him. Of course he has an authentic professional presence, but he still loves to joke and tease. What’s fun about Steve is that he will entertain the stupid ideas and outlandish antics or even wildly unprofessional things said by his staff until he completely smites them down. Unless he’s stressed out, then he doesn’t give a single fuck and he doesn’t waste a second before shutting shit down.

“Get your pompous, high and mighty ass to the lab, Malik.” Chief Aoki barks, the time for jokes long passed. “You’re already late, which is a waste of hospital resources.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir. I won’t let you down, sir.”  Zayn salutes repeatedly with a stupid smirk plastered on his face.

“Malik.” Steve gives him a strong, narrowed eye look.

“Ok, ok, I’m going.” Zayn holds up his arms in defeat.

“Foster young minds, _Oh Great One_.” Louis whispers teasingly as Zayn walks past, offering a mocking bow.

Zayn cackles good-naturedly, but still flips Louis off with both hands as he strolls off down the hall.  

“Tomlinson, get out of that wheelchair!” Steve snaps, laying into Louis next. “You’re also wasting hospital resources!”

“Oh lighten up, Steve…” Louis rolls his eyes, slinking out of the chair and presenting it jokingly to The Chief. Louis knows the mischievous side of Steve’s personality would love to let loose and go racing down the halls in a little wheelchair race. They’ve done it before actually, during a slow 3 A.M. shift in The Pit together, just trying to keep each other awake. “Wanna take it out for a spin?”

“No, I don’t want to take a _wheelchair_ out for a spin!” Steve admonishes. “I have a job to do, and so do you two.”

Louis and Liam snicker amongst themselves, leaning against the wall.

“ _Well_ …” Steve looks to Liam and Louis pointedly, eyebrows raised in confusion. “What are you two just standing around for? Save lives! Be of some use! What is wrong with you attendings! Don’t you both have work to do? Let’s move!” The Chief claps his hands together and Liam and Louis scramble down the halls instantly.

“Yikes.” Louis blows out, once they are a safe distance away. “What crawled up Steve’s asshole and died today?”

“I know, right?” Liam agrees, looking over his shoulder in caution. “He’s so testy and moody this morning. It must be time for quarterly reports. He keeps talking about ‘hospital resources’.”

“Oh right, _right_.” Louis nods in understanding, knowing perfectly well how stressed Steve gets when it’s time to present the hospital revenue reports to The Board every quarter. “Should we…maybe? Offer to help? Or something?” He offers sheepishly.

Liam raises an eyebrow. “And get our heads chewed off?”

Louis and Liam pause their strides, turning their heads towards each other to share a knowing look. “Pass.” They say simultaneously in agreement, with a decisive head nod.

Chief Aoki likes things done a certain way and even though they would only be trying to help, they’ve all learned from experience that such a novel idea only serves to cause more damage than good. It’s best to just keep their heads down and ride it out until the reports have been filed and Steve is back to his jovial lighthearted self.

“So anyway…is that a definite no to my proposition or...?” Louis starts up again. “Because I’m really feeling like? I dunno? Going paintballing?”

“Paintballing?” Liam questions, frowning at the idea.

“Go kart racing?” Louis tries instead, raising an eyebrow curiously.

Liam shakes his head. “No.”

“Shopping?” Louis tests.

“Nope.” Liam denies again, popping the “p”.

“We could take a ride around the pier on a ferry boat? That’s always fun.”

“No.”

“Alright, how about golfing?” Louis suggests hopefully.

Liam frowns at him again. “Since when do you golf?”

“I’m open to learning Liam, let me live.” Louis sighs in frustration.

“My answer is still no.” Liam maintains, face flat.

“Ugh whyyy!” Louis groans, throwing his head back. “I will even settle for just going to see a fucking movie, if it gets me out of here.”

“Nooo.” Liam drags out, head shaking.

“Why must you be so boring, Li?” Louis grumbles, pouting at Liam and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I just don’t get why you want to play hooky so badly.”

“I dunno, I just…I feel uneasy and anxious.” Louis admits. He’s been feeling like this since he woke up this morning, like a weird ominous cloud hovering over him and he’s just waiting for the enviable storm to come. “Slow days aren’t good, you know? It’s bad juju.”   

“Slow days are just slow days.” Liam shrugs indifferently. “It doesn’t mean the world is ending.”

“That’s exactly what everyone says before the world ends.” Louis argues with another sigh.

“You’re being dramatic—”

“Niall!” Louis interrupts Liam, excitedly calling his other friend once he spots him rounding the hall. “I bet Niall will go with me, like a _real_ friend.”

“Go with you?” Niall frowns, overhearing the conversation as he walks up to them. “Go where?”

“Yeah, I wanna play hooky, you in?”  

“Ohh I’d love to, but I can’t.” Niall answers regretfully. “I’ve actually been looking everywhere for you.”

“And now you’ve found me.” Louis smiles, casually draping his arm over Niall’s shoulder.

“You got a sec? I need a consult.”

“Ummm.” Louis ponders, continually aware that his schedule is completely vacant for the day. “I think I can spare a moment. Anything for you, Niall, my _only_ real friend.” He emphasizes pointedly, side-eying Liam.

“He didn’t even say yes!” Liam sulks. “He turned you down too because, like me, he has a _job_!”

“Nonsense. Niall would go with me if it wasn’t for the consult he needs. I know his heart is in the right place.” Louis defends, hugging Niall a bit closer. “Isn’t that right, Ni?”

“I would absolutely play hooky with you, Lou.” Niall confirms, knocking his hip against Louis’ lightly. “But yeah…about that consult, it is important, so if we could just…”

“Right of course, Dr. Horan. Lead the way.” Louis adopts a serious face teasingly.

“Aww, how lucky am I, that _The_ Dr. Louis Tomlinson has the time to give me, a humble Peds surgeon, a consult.” Niall smiles fondly at Louis.

“Oh shut up.” Louis swats him lightly. “I come to you for consults all the time.”

The four of them all did well in their residency class, choosing different surgical specialties and landing fellowships all over the country. But even-still none of them wanted to leave Seattle. The only one who seriously entertained the idea of moving to New York was Zayn, claiming that it was far better suited for Plastic Surgery. But in the end, somehow Liam convinced him to stay—Louis doesn’t know exactly how Liam did it, but if he really had to, he could probably guess.

Liam looks down at his beeping pager. “Hey I’ll catch you guys later.” He starts to head down the hall, but then seems to remember something. “Oh wait—are we still on for drinks tonight?”

“Oh, it’s lad’s night!” Louis enthuses. Ever since they were interns, the four of them started making a conscious effort to meet up officially at least twice a month outside the hospital. It’s a time for them to unwind and catch up on each other’s lives, after all it gets so busy around the hospital it’s hard to really stay in touch even if they see each other around every day. As it became a regular thing for them, Louis started referring to it as lad’s night and it stuck. “I totally forgot that was tonight. Well, you already know I’m free today, so I’m down.”

“Niall, what about you?” Liam asks.

“I’ve got a bowel resection scheduled tonight, but it’ll be quick.” Niall answers. “I’ll meet up with you guys?”

“Sounds great.” Liam smiles, already on the move again. “See ya, boys.”

Louis turns his attention back to Niall. “Alright Niall, tell about your patient.”

Niall nods as they start down a different corridor. “Ok, so one of the new interns checked in a pediatric patient complaining of constant headaches and fatigue. I mean, it’s flu season and everything, but it’s apparently been a reoccurring thing so my intern ordered scans.”

“Mmm.” Louis hums as he pulls the rest of his Skittles out of his lab coat, snacking on them as he follows Niall into the imaging room. “And how old is the patient?”

“She’s only eight.” Niall says, logging into the main computer to display the multiple brain scans on the different screens around the room.

“Oh…look at that.” Louis awes, tilting his head as he walks over to the first screen to examine the MRI scans. “It’s an astrocytoma—well…a juvenile pilocytic astrocytoma, specifically.”

“How do you know for sure?” Niall wonders, glancing at Louis curiously.

Louis points to the screen, tracing along the image. “See how the borders of the tumor are pretty well defined? It’s not fuzzy or stretching out like some other tumors would be.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Niall nods, arms crossed over his chest as he considers.

“Definitely explains the headaches, poor thing.” Louis frowns, glancing at Niall. “Did the intern say that the patient was suffering from any deficits? Slurred speech? Loss of vision? Anything like that?”

“No, nothing yet. Just dizzy spells.”

“Hmm, so it can’t be too high of a grade yet, that’s good.” Louis notes, nodding his head. “Well, you’re definitely going to need me. I guess I’m not so free after all.”

“You can treat her?” Niall asks.

“Yeah, definitely.” Louis confirms, looking back at the scans again. “It’s in a bit of a risky area, almost hitting her optic nerve pathways, but I’m confident that I can get clean margins on it. But she will definitely need a follow up of chemo to be safe. These tumors are aggressive and sophisticated.”

“Tell me about it.” Niall sighs in exhaustion. “I was hoping it was nothing too serious, but I guess we should go inform the family.”

Louis sighs as well, nodding along slowly. “I hate when it’s a little kid, you know? I don’t know how you work with dying kids all day.”

Niall hangs his head, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know some days. It’s certainly not easy, but someone has got to do it and nothing feels better than when you can save them.”

“Yeah…”

They leave the imaging room and walk stride for stride through the halls of the hospital.

“Oh wait—where is my intern?” Niall realizes suddenly, looking around. “God, these interns, I tell ya. Never where they are supposed to be—I’m trying to be a good teacher, but how can I when my student is always MIA?”

“That is truly the money making question.” Louis shrugs with an understanding smile.

“I’ll be right back.” Niall sighs again, setting off to find his lost pupil, which is nice of him. Many attendings wouldn’t be bothered with tracking down some intern, instead adopting more of a ‘you snooze, you lose’ mentality. “You can go in, if you want. I don’t think the parents are back yet.”

“Yeah sure, no problem.” Louis nods easily, walking up to the patient’s room at the corner. “Hello there.” He waves cheerfully from under the doorway. There’s no one in the room besides a little girl perched on the bed with her legs swinging back and forth off the side.

“Hiii!”

Louis can’t help but smile at the girl’s infectious enthusiasm, grinning wide with a missing front tooth. She’s a bit small for eight-years-old, but she’s absolutely precious. “And what’s your name?”

“Avery!” She announces proudly, still kicking her feet around. “But my Daddy calls me, Avie. And then sometimes he calls me Aviebug, like ladybug—but me! I _looove_ lady bugs.” 

“They are quite cute aren’t they.” Louis agrees with a little laugh, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her. She’s quite talkative and friendly. “Well it’s very, very nice to meet you, Avery. I’m Dr. Tomlinson.” He falters a little at the sound of the name leaving his lips, catching himself off guard. “I uh…knew a little Avery once…” 

“Really? Was your Avery a girl?” Avery wonders curiously, sitting up a little bit in her bed. “Because kids at school tease me sometimes because my name sounds like a boy’s name. And it doesn’t help that my middle name is Elliot.”

 _avery elliot_  

Louis completely blanks, face paling rapidly as he gazes down at the little girl before him, really looking at her, zoning in on the details he so easily overlooked at first glance. Beautiful chestnut brown hair falling in long waves, a tiny birthmark to the left of her warm hazel brown eyes, the sweetest little dimples and a wide crooked smile that could break any heart it wanted.

Louis can feel his heart pounding in his chest, beating so loud, he’s sure the whole hospital must hear it.

“I guess I could go by Avie Ellie, maybe? I don’t know?” Avery ponders to herself. “But I think Avery Elliot is unique though, don’t you? And my Daddy says that my mother named me special.” She continues, lowering her head. “But I never got to meet her…” 

“Avie, baby, they didn’t have green jello, so I brought you the red one. But I think that a general rule of jello is that red is the best, anyway.”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAM2TKtJ-9o&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvjOekjhf5G6YJsJvFkXmFb&index=1&t=0s)

Time is simultaneously moving in slow motion and plunging into hyperspeed as Louis spins around at the strangely familiar sound of the deep voice. He opens his mouth to speak, to shout, to scream, to declare the rare sighting of a ghost, but all the words get caught in his throat as he openly gazes at the man walking into the patient room.

They stare at each other for a moment—a long, complicated moment. A million and one things buzz in the tight air between them, as a vacuum seems to suck all the breathable oxygen from the room. Eight years has apparently done not a damn thing to Louis’ memory because in one moment he somehow manages to feel the emotional weight of an entire lifetime fall upon his shoulders.

“Louis…” Harry breathes finally— _hardly_. Louis probably wouldn’t even have heard the quiet uttering of his own name if it weren’t for the fact that he has been so haunted by the sound of that voice, he could recognize it anywhere.

Louis rips his eyes away from Harry, twisting back around towards the small little girl he just met moments ago. A girl he knows; a girl he _knew_.

His eyes are wide with disbelief and his jaw has fallen helplessly slack as all the wind is knocked from his lungs. “Oh my god…” Louis breathes out in hopelessly pained realization, hand instinctually covering his gapping mouth. “ _Aves…”_  

No longer a small baby, no longer immortalized and locked up in a tiny safe box in Louis’ head, carefully kept out of sight, purposely pushed out of mind. He gazes at her in absolute wonderment, almost disbelieving that she’s real and sitting right in front of him. And she is absolutely gorgeous in every way, just as he always knew she would be. So much like that fragile baby he once coddled in his arms, but also so very different.

Avery watches him curiously with a tilted head, confusion obviously painted over her beautiful features as her brow furrows slightly. She has no idea who he is, and why should she? Louis wasn’t given the chance to be apart of her life.

“Uh…um…I h-have—I have to g-go...” Louis excuses himself in a mumbled rush, standing to his shaky feet and hightailing it out of the patient room, refusing to make any further eye contact.

Louis’ heart is on par with the beats per minute of a marathon runner, pounding incessantly within his rib cage. He can’t possibly get out of the room fast enough, half stumbling over himself as he flees down the corridor in sightless haste.

He’s pictured this moment so many times, he could go blind with it. Replayed the scenario in his head, over and over and over again, until he could almost trick himself into believing it was real. He and Harry reuniting at last, gushing, apologizing, promising to never be apart again, on and on it goes, but never did Louis picture them back here. Back again in this hospital under the same heavy weight.

The weight of cancer.

There is no earthly way to explain it or come to terms with it and Louis doesn’t even begin to  know how to deal with it, but the impeding emotions are powering over his body. Avery is not Louis’ daughter. He knows that, he _knows_. But he cared about that little girl in there, he _loved_ her. He dare say he may have bonded to her in a way he never fully admitted to himself. Seeing her grown up, utterly gorgeous and outspoken with a bright and bubbly personality, a mini version of her mother. It’s so much, so much he wasn’t expecting as he unknowingly walked into that room.

And now she’s sick. Avery is sick. He has to tell Harry she’s sick—Fuck.

And Harry, _god_. Harry.

Louis only had but a stolen glimpse of him, but from what Louis did see he is just as breathtaking as before. In that one parting moment, Louis felt more than he’s felt in years. Such a horrifyingly visceral reaction to the sound of his deep voice, to the look of his shocked face, to just being in the same room as him again, breathing the same air.

He’s a stranger, yet his silhouette is so frighteningly familiar, so much appears the same about him but there is so much that is still but a mystery. A mystery presenting itself in Louis’ roaring mind as a series of age old questions. What is he doing back in Seattle? Or did he never leave? Have they been only miles from each other the whole time—no, Louis would have known. He would have _known_.

Louis tried calling Harry over and over and over again when he left, sending text after unanswered text, leaving countless messages during his breaks until the number was inevitably disconnected. Louis searched high and low for any signs of Harry for months, and to be honest he probably would still be looking for them right now if it wasn’t for the voicemail he received from a private number six months after Harry left.

Louis had been in surgery, so he missed the call and he wishes every day that he didn’t because having that voicemail in his inbox was so much worse. The voice on the other end of the line was shaky—distant, like he didn’t quite know what he wanted to say. His speech was horribly choppy, tearful even and Louis can’t ever get the sound of Harry’s weak voice out of his head.

_“Louis…Lou—it’s me...I uh…well, I just wanted to um—I got your messages. I…I’m fine, ok. I’m ok—we’re ok…you don’t have to look out for me anymore…you don’t have to ca—I’m ok…Avery is good, I’m taking care of her…we’re fine. I um…I hope you’re—I hope everything is better for you…tell Benedict hi from me and um—I…Louis…I just I…fuck—I gotta go…goodbye…”_

Louis listened to that one recording of Harry’s voice nonstop, trying to make sense of it, to find some semblance of understanding from his quiet scattered words. Because even though he said the word four times in a minute and thirty-nine seconds, Harry didn’t sound ok. And all Louis wanted to do was call him back, find him and bring him home. But as time went on, Louis started to think maybe he was only hearing what he wanted to hear, maybe he was reading too much into it, maybe he kept thinking Harry wasn’t ok because Louis desperately wanted Harry to still need him, to come back to him.

It’s funny how the more times you listen to something, the more you can twist it into meaning whatever the hell you want. Sometimes Louis could hear only sadness in it, a deep longing and desperation in the heavy pauses of the recording. Other days it sounded like Harry was mocking him and he could only hear cruel taunting in his voice. Others still, Louis heard anger and bitterness, resentment laced around the sounds on the other end of the phone.

It only got worse and worse as time went on. Eventually it got so bad that Niall had to take Louis’ phone away and delete the damned recording for Louis’ own good. But even though it was physically gone, the echo of it still replayed over and over in Louis’ head whether he wanted it to or not. His very last connection to Harry. To Avery. Haunting him.

And it wasn’t the only thing haunting him. The room—Avery’s room, her nursery. The place where Louis fell in love with her dimpled smile and felt his heart burst at the sound of her little giggles, the last place he ever held her in his arms. It’s still in Louis’ house completely untouched. He hasn’t gone so far as to even jiggle the door handle for fear of what lies beyond the door. Louis can’t bear to see all the things she left behind on that horrid day, still in their place, still waiting for her to come back. 

And now she’s sick. His beautiful, little Avery is sick.

Louis is not at all watching where he is going when he bumps right into Niall, walking along with an intern at his side.

“Oh hey, I found my intern, I was just on my way back.” Niall says, before he takes in Louis’ panicked expression. “Hey, Lou…what’s going on? Where are you going?”

Louis can’t focus. Not on Niall’s face, not on whatever is going on around him, not even on keeping his body upright. He feels faint. He feels hazy. Like he’s just moved into an alternate plane of existence where somehow this shit is happening. Except it’s supposedly real.

Niall flicks his gaze to the intern fidgeting beside him, her hands stuffed deep in her pockets. “Wesley, go inform the patient’s family that we will be in to speak with them in a moment.” 

“Uh…” Dr. Wesley just looks at Niall blankly with wide uncertain eyes, like she isn’t sure what she’s meant to do.  

“Don’t just stand there, Wesley! Go!” Niall commands in agitation, pointing towards the intended direction. 

“Interns.” Niall rolls his eyes, head shaking disapprovingly as she scrambles off towards the unit. “More like skittish little children who need to have their hand held at every turn. Were we really _that_ bad?”

Louis offers no response, similarly challenging the response of an intern himself, giving Niall the same blank gaze Dr. Wesley had moments ago.

“Louis?” Niall rests a hand on his shoulder, looking at him closely. “Lou, are you ok? You look pale.”

Louis’ breathing grows ragged, blind panic and a new wave realization setting in. The realization that this isn’t a dream, he won’t wake up and he can’t escape. This is _real._

Not even an hour ago, Louis was happily mixing Skittles together and plotting to skip out on his medical duties for the day and have a nice, carefree time, far away from here and now…

Now he can barely breathe. Barely function. The weight of the entire world crashing down on his shoulders again and again and _again_.

“Not here.” Niall registers the makings of an oncoming panic attack and quickly braces Louis’ upper arm, goading him into the nearest supply closet.

It’s never comforting for a patient or even fellow staff to witness a doctor completely lose their shit. They are viewed as heroes, saviors to some. They aren’t supposed to break down, they aren’t supposed to display weakness. Not out in the open anyway.

Louis opens his mouth and his tongue tastes like chalk, dry and soundless. “S-She’s…sh— _fuck…_ ”

“What?” Niall questions, expression etched with worry as he rubs Louis’ back. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god…she’s sick…” Louis shakes his head wildly, feeling suddenly even more lightheaded and impossibly faint. It feels similar to reliving a cruel nightmare, unable to wake up and open his eyes. “Niall, she’s s-sick…” 

Niall frowns, not making the connection. “The patient?” 

“Avery.” Louis rasps, bracing the wall for support and he nearly doubles over weakly. “My Avery. S-She’s—the patient is _my_ Avery.”

“What?” Niall gasps, looking around in shock and disbelief. He looks down at the tablet in his hand, pulling up his patient’s medical records. “No? You mean—that’s _her_ in there? I didn’t…I didn’t even realize. I never saw the last name, Wesley handled checking her in. Fuck—is Harry here too?”

Louis nods, wobbling back and forth as he drops his hands to his knees. He hunches over himself and tries to heave in some kind of oxygen. “I didn’t talk to him…I…I mean I c-couldn’t I…”

“Oh Louis.” Niall holds out a hand to steady him, but soon forgoes steadying Louis and decides just to full on embrace his shaky body, pulling Louis into his arms.

Niall knows exactly what kind of hellfire Louis went through, he was there. He witnessed the aftermath of Harry leaving and held Louis together, they all did—Liam, Zayn and Niall.

Everyone has that patient that changed them, the person that altered not only how they see medicine, but how they see themselves. And for Louis, that patient was Gemma.

And he cared so much for her that he allowed it to bleed heavily into his life, he got invested. Far more invested than he ever should have and it’s not only Gemma that haunts him, it’s Harry and it’s Avery and everything they ever were to him, everything Louis thought they always would be.

It broke him. Harry leaving _broke_ him. And Louis has spent all theses years just trying to keep himself together, just trying to keep his mind busy and his body active enough to not spend every waking hour thinking of them. Considering it a victory when he can go whole days without his mind finding a reason to wander right back to them.

“I can’t tell him, I can’t tell him…I can’t do this.” Louis repeats, shaking his head wildly as he anxiously breaks out of Niall’s hold on him. “It’s just like—like…Gemma…”

“No. Louis no.” Niall refutes, hands on both his shoulders. “It’s not nearly as advanced as that.”

Louis is still furiously tossing his head side to side, eyes wide and panicked. Gemma died from an eerily similar cancer and now Louis is diagnosing her daughter.

“Listen to me, Louis.” Niall forces Louis to meet his eyes, waiting until Louis actually finds the will to focus on them. “This is not the same case. It’s not. Gemma died from a different type of tumor—an inoperable tumor. You just saw Avery’s scans and you weren’t nervous at all. You told me, without a doubt in your mind, that you could take her tumor out. Nothing has changed. You can do this, you’re one of the best up and coming neurosurgeons in the country.”

Louis nods slowly, breathing heavily. He knows Niall is right, Louis is exceptionally good at what he does. That’s how he was able to land Department Head at such a young age in his career, it’s nearly unheard of in neurosurgery with the level of complexity and intellect it requires, but Louis somehow beat all the odds.

It’s how he came to cope with the severed loss of huge pieces of his heart. After he eventually picked himself up and haphazardly stitched himself back together, Louis threw what was left of himself into his work, hoping it could possibly make him whole again.

He worked, day in and day out, pushing himself to be the best, snagging the honor of Chief Resident as as senior resident and easily securing a Neuro fellowship under Dr. Carmichael’s tutelage. He’s churned out more publications than any of his fellow classmates, heading clinical trial after trial to keep himself active. With no one to go home to, Louis made the O.R. his home—his _life_.

So considering all he has accomplished in his career thus far, Louis isn’t questioning his own capabilities as a surgeon. He isn’t questioning his diagnosis or the methodology he’ll need to be successful in treating her. He’s questioning whether or not he can walk out of this supply closet and into a patient’s room knowing that the last time they were apart of his life he almost didn’t survive losing them. Louis can’t risk the emotional strain on his own heart, not after everything he has managed to sustain.

Fuck, and Louis can only imagine how Harry will react to all this. He doesn’t know where Harry is in life, or what has happened to him since that fated day eight years ago, but if Louis knows anything, he knows that news like this will absolutely destroy Harry. It won’t matter that Avery is completely treatable, it won’t matter how much Louis or Niall or any other doctor tries to reassure him. The parallel back to his sister’s case and the uncertainty and emotion that lies with it, will almost certainly overcome him.

Louis doesn’t know if he’s ready to live through this again and he is in no way prepared to face any of this today.

“She’s a pediatric patient, so I’ll do most of the talking…but it’s a neuro case, Louis. You have to be there.” Niall tells him, arms on Louis’ shoulders. “It’s your diagnosis.”

“I can send someone else from my department. Or maybe—”

“They already saw you, Louis. You’ll only make it worse. And you know good and well you won’t be able to leave this alone.” Niall continues and Louis knows he’s right, there’s no way he could ignore this case now. It’d eat him alive moment by moment. “If you want to give her a real chance at coming out of this, it has to be you. Find a way to pull yourself together, Louis. Don’t overthink it. You can do this.”

Louis closes his eyes momentarily and just inhales deeply several times, trying to forget, trying to sever the connection he still feels strumming in his veins, trying to distance himself as far as he can from the pain of the past.

It’s useless.

He’ll never be ready for this, but it’s happening anyway so Louis forces his heavy feet to follow Niall back to that same looming room.

They’ve all met each other before and there is an understated acknowledgement of that the second they’re all standing in the room. The air is thick and heavy around them, like a noose tightening around Louis’ neck, robbing him of his right to breathe freely.

“Mr. Styles, hello, I’m Dr. Horan, Pediatrics.” Niall introduces himself properly as though they are utter strangers, unattached and unbeknownst to the obvious weight of the past. He shakes Harry’s hand firmly, before gesturing to his side. “And this is Dr. Tomlinson, Neuro.”

Louis wants, with everything inside him, to avoid eye contact, but he knows that’s poor etiquette and dreadfully impolite. So instead he offers his hand for a shake, glancing at Harry as briefly as possible to minimize the blow that his luring green eyes will inevitably have on his system. Louis knows he can’t completely play it off as if he doesn’t at all remember Harry, from the way he ran out of the room moments ago that cover is long past blown. But he can’t stand here and address him as the long lost love of his life either so he decides to follow Niall’s example and stick with formal. “Mr. Styles.”

“Dr. Tomlinson.” Harry reciprocates, taking Louis’ proffered hand and giving it a quick squeeze. Louis reels his hand back almost instantaneously and stuffs both of them in his lab coat, blatantly averting his eyes from Harry’s. Louis doesn’t need to accidentally catch something in Harry’s gaze, he doesn’t want to end up trapped within that alluring prism of gold flecks he knows line Harry’s irises. Hearing his own name said by Harry twice within the span of an hour is already physically unnerving enough as it is.

 _don’t make this awkward_.

Niall clears his throat in an attempt to disperse some of the palpable tension, moving to stand near Avery’s bed. He bends down a bit to her eye level. “Um…hey Avery, do you like ice cream?”

“Well, of course, I do. Who doesn’t like ice cream?” Avery counters back with a grin.

“Exactly.” Niall laughs lightly. “Well on Mondays the children’s cafeteria turns into an ice cream bar.”

“Really?” Avery’s eyes grow wide as she gasps a little.

“Yep!” Niall enthuses animatedly, nodding his head. “So how would you like to go for ice cream, while us boring doctors talk with your dad for a little bit?”

“May I, Daddy?” Avery asks, looking up at Harry for approval.

“Course, Aviebug.” Harry nods with a smile, giving her a thumbs up. “Have fun!”

“Dr. Wesley, will you please take little miss Avery downstairs for ice cream? Make sure they give her extra, extra sprinkles. Doctor’s orders.” Niall winks at her, giving Avery a high five.

Thank god for Niall and his easy going nature. Louis has somehow forgotten how to speak, let alone practice medicine or maintain proper bedside manner.

“Yes, Dr. Horan, right away.” Dr. Wesley extends her hand out to Avery. “Come on, Avery.”

“Mr. Styles, if you could just follow us to an available conference room.” Niall stands back up to his feet to address Harry again.

Harry’s eyes already look worried, his brow pulled into a tight frown, but he nods and begins to follow them out of the room.

“Hi, sorry...I’m here!” A man comes barreling down the hall in a hurry. He’s handsome—in a very textbook sort of way, dressed in a suit and tie with his deep brown hair styled back away from his face. He’s not as tall as he looks like he would be, maybe only an inch taller than Louis and when he instinctually leans in to peck Harry’s lips, Louis feels dumb for not anticipating this sooner. “The traffic was relentless. I’m sorry, babe. I’m here. I hope I’m not too late.”

“You’re just in time.” Harry kisses him back, smiling with what appears to be relief.

Louis stares at the interaction, fingers clicking the pen in his lower coat pocket incessantly as he fights to keep his face utterly neutral.

“Oh, hello, sorry—I’m Jesse.” He warmly offers his free hand towards Louis in greeting, but Louis can only blink at it, finding himself unable to command his body to movement. He keeps both of his hands buried deep in his lab coat, fingers still clamped around that pen.

Niall swoops in, like only a best friend can, smoothly taking Jesse’s hand as if it were originally offered to him. Jesse doesn’t seem to think anything of it, smiling politely at Niall as he firmly grasps his hand. But just because Jesse didn’t notice, doesn’t mean Harry didn’t and Louis can feel his eyes on him, watching carefully from a distance.

“We’re Avery’s doctors. I’m Dr. Horan and this is Dr. Tomlinson.” Niall introduces on Louis’ behalf once again, gesturing towards him at his side as he speaks to Jesse. “We were just about to discuss Avery’s case with your…erm…”

“Fiancé.” Jesse finishes, arm moving to wrap protectively around Harry’s waist.  

“Right.” Louis nods curtly to himself, lips set in a line, refusing to show any perceivable emotion as his finger still rapidly clicks away at the concealed pen in his pocket. Of course Harry is engaged, of fucking course. It’s been eight years, it’d be weird if he wasn’t engaged or married or some other shit. And you know what, Louis is happy for him. He wishes them nothing, but happiness—at least that’s what he’s going to keep telling himself as he eyes the man attached to Harry’s side.

“Please follow us to the conference room.” Niall says next, gesturing towards the right direction. “Right this way.”

Niall dutifully leads them into the first available room, holding the door open. They settle down at the empty table, Harry and Jesse on one side while Niall and Louis sit across from them, charting tablets in hand.

“Is it serious because, Dr. Wesley—I think that’s her name, said that it was probably all fine.” Harry explains lightly as they all settle down in their chairs around the table. “But she just wanted to do a few scans and tests to be sure.”

 _Interns_. Louis groans internally. The current bane of his existence. He makes a mental note to instruct all the interns about patient interaction etiquette. Never _ever_ give a patient or a patient's family false hope. That’s a fundamental rule. As doctors they can’t guarantee life or miraculously spare people from falling ill or even dying. They can only work to the best of their human ability, which is sometimes enough, but oftentimes not.

“Yes—well that’s what we need to discuss.” Niall informs, pulling up Avery’s chart and lab work on his tablet.

Harry’s gaze gradually turns cloudy, anxiousness quickly taunting the usual clarity of his green eyes. “Is there…something wrong? There isn’t, right? She’s fine...”

This is the part. This is what Louis never wants to relive. He remembers exactly what Gemma’s illness did to Harry, Louis remembers in vivid detail all the nights Harry cried and grieved for her. Louis may have oceans of hurt towards Harry, but even still he wishes he could just tell him beautiful lies. Find a way to shield him from this new wave of heartbreak that’s set to reign over his body. Louis wants to lie as if his whole life depended on it, cover Harry’s eyes and pretend it's all ok.

Louis sits at the conference table and all he can manage to think about is how this wouldn’t be happening if he had left, if he had finally taken a fucking day off and played hooky. Slow days are never a good sign, slow days always mean the end of the world.

Niall looks down before clearing his throat, shifting his gaze to Louis, urging him to present his diagnosis.

Louis empties his own throat, even though it’s as dry as dust. He crosses his hands on the table surface in front of him, clamping then together tightly to keep them from shaking. With much determination, he forces himself to look up and meet Harry’s eyes as he talks, willing his voice to remain even and professional. “The MRI we ordered for your daughter showed a mass in her brain. I identified the mass as a grade one astrocytoma. It’s a type of glioma or a tumor that’s quite common in children and—”

“A tumor—like…cancer? Avery has brain cancer?” Jesse clarifies in disbelief, leaning in towards Harry and grabbing hold of his hand. 

“Yes.” Louis confirms regretfully, feeling like he just cocked a loaded gun and fired it straight through Harry’s heart.

Harry’s lips part fractionally, just a slight flicker of hesitation before all the color drains from his face. “She…she just had headaches? She was f-fine…It was—it’s a _headache_ …a h-headache…” His hand is locked around his fiancé’s so tightly that his knuckles are white with strain, entire body riddled with tension. Harry looks absolutely stunned, gaze unfocused as his brain tries so desperately to comprehend the situation.

Louis has seen this face before. He has seen this exact expression, the ramifications of it burned forever into his memory. Escalating emotions of devastation are flashing across Harry’s eyes, one after the next like a deteriorating slide show.

 _denial. anger. doubt. fear. guilt. sadness. worry_.

Niall nods empathetically, trying his best to offer an explanation. “Often headaches, nausea and lightheadedness present as—”

“No…” Harry breathes out in a pained whisper, eyes fluttering closed. He starts to shake his head slowly in disbelief, gradually shaking faster and faster as he pushes back in his chair. “No. No. I can’t…I can’t do this again. No.”

With that, Harry frantically scrambles to his feet, hoping out of his chair, rushing towards the door to escape.

“Har—” Louis stops himself from speaking, almost reaching out to try to console him, legs almost standing to go after him, finding long forgotten habits still engraved like muscle memories in his system. But instead, he snaps his mouth closed and keeps his arms to himself, forcing himself to bite his tongue. It’s not his place. Even if he wanted it to be, it’s not and Louis is made completely aware of that as Jesse swiftly gets up to go after his fiancé.

“Babe.” Jesse calls softly, following Harry out of the conference room door. He catches up with Harry a few paces from the doorway, immediately closing him into his arms. Harry folds like a paper doll against Jesse, sobbing into his shirt.

Louis watches on through the glass window of the room, volts of anxious energy racking his body. He can’t sit still, knee bouncing uncontrollably under the table as he bites his bottom lip, uneasily ticking and tacking the tip of his ballpoint pen against the wood of table top.  

Jesse’s back is facing the window and Harry is completely crumbled in his arms, face nuzzled into his neck. Louis doesn’t want to see this, but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away, watching on as Jesse continues to comfort and soothe Harry, whispering in his ear and tracing patterns along his back. Jesse holds Harry’s face in his hands, telling him something that seems to calm Harry down, before tenderly kissing the corner of Harry’s mouth.

“Hey, are you doing ok?” Niall leans over towards Louis, resting his palm down on his shoulder.

Louis snaps back, turning his attention away from the couple. He registers Niall’s question, but isn’t sure of the answer. If by ok he means that Louis is still physically breathing and functioning as a human at a multicellular level, then yeah, sure he’s ok. But if Niall is asking if Louis is _ok_ —ok with the situation, ok with the twisted turn of events, ok with seeing Harry again after eight long years of swallowed separation, only to sit in front of him and his fiancé and tell him that he has to cut his daughter’s brain open. Then no, Louis is probably not ok.

Not even slightly.

 

||✚||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c8rQPF-qESU&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvjOekjhf5G6YJsJvFkXmFb&index=2&t=0s)

Harry wasn’t even supposed to be here.

He never planned on walking into this hospital ever again. Not willingly, not with all the memories laden in the very walls, memories he refuses to acknowledge or be reminded of in any way, shape, or form. A week ago—even a day ago, wild horses couldn’t drag Harry back into this place. Nothing could, nothing would, but somehow something did.

Harry never planned on seeing him again, never expected to _ever_ see him again. His gaze is still just as hypnotic as it always was. Like a time machine transporting him back to a time long ago. Under that strong blue gaze, Harry is twenty-four years old again. He’s twenty-four and the boy whose house he is living in is as sweet and lovely as can be. He’s twenty-four and he’s in the worst place of his life, lost beyond belief, scared to the point of surrender, hopelessly confused about a beautifully kind boy with eyes like the calming sea. Except Harry isn’t twenty-four anymore and that funny, rambling boy that Harry fondly came to know is a man now, not only a man, but an established neurosurgeon handing him the worst news he could possibly get in his life.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be _here_.

But somehow an odd series of events led him to this exact moment, a moment he could have never anticipated would come.

He was getting ready for work as usual, he’d only recently moved back to Seattle for his job and he has a huge client to meet with this week so he was trying not to be late. But when Harry went to his daughter’s bedroom to see if she was almost ready for school, Avery was back in her bed, pulling at the pigtails Harry had just tied her hair into. She kept groaning about how much her head hurt and when Harry palmed her forehead, her temperature seemed a little too high this time. And he’s definitely not one to take chances about these things, so he called her school and let her stay home. But the thing is, she’s been having these headaches, they come, they go, but with every new wave they come back stronger than before.

So today, when Avery’s severe headache caused her to hardly want to move from her bed, Harry knew he needed to take her in to be examined by a doctor.

And Harry hates hospitals, he _hates_ them. Rightfully so. He begged his fiancé to leave work and come in with him, not because he thought there was something horribly wrong with his daughter, but because the concept of stepping into a hospital not knowing what will happen when he steps out, made him physically ill.

Their new home is actually far closer to Northeast Regional Hospital—it’s not the better hospital, but it’s the closer hospital. And it’s a hospital that Harry hasn’t associated negative memories to, so that’s where he planned to go. He told Jesse to meet him there and that was that.

But sure enough, the E.R at Northeast wasn’t accepting any new patients due to a heavy trauma from the early morning hours that was still busying up their staff. And they referred all incoming patients to none other than Seaside Seattle Medical Center.

Of course, Harry could have said ‘ _fuck that, I’m going home’_ and sparred himself a potentially emotionally jarring experience, but his daughter means absolutely everything to him and something had to be done about her persistent headaches. Harry couldn’t bear to see her in pain any longer. So he sucked it up and went back to the place he swore to himself he never, ever would.

But yet, Harry still didn’t expect to see Louis here—he thought this would just be an in and out sort of thing. An exam, maybe a few lab tests and a prescription, that’s it. Nothing that Louis would ever be involved in. Harry even thought that maybe Louis didn’t work here any more, maybe he’d moved off to a new hospital, maybe he’d left Seattle all together.

But here he is anyway, sitting right across from Harry at the long table looking just as lovely and sweet as he ever did. It’s only fitting really, in a twisted fucked up sort of way.

_louis. ssmc. heartbreak. cancer. death._

Somehow all synonymous, interchangeable things in Harry’s mind.

He didn’t expect to be here again, in a similar place, among similar company, under similar circumstances giving new meaning to the concept of déjà vu, because that’d be flat out ridiculous wouldn’t it?

Fucking unreal ridiculous. The kind of ridiculous bullshit that encompasses his entire life in such hateful, cruel ways, so much so that he’s become scarily accustomed to it.

Harry finally put himself together enough to come back into the room, forcing himself to sit still in his chair as the doctors before him try to shed more light on a topic Harry would much rather leave in the darkness.

“We don’t quite know what causes this form of tumor to grow in children, but many indicators based on her family history show it may be a genetically inherited risk.” Niall explains, speaking carefully.

“Gemma...” Harry mumbles quietly, voice crackling as he forces his sister’s name out of his dry, unwilling mouth. If someone asked him when the last time he spoke her name was, he couldn’t even truthfully say. It hurts too much. It _still_ hurts too much.

He’s become a master of compartmentalization, hiding things away in little concealed boxes in his mind, riddled with miles of warning tape and red flags. Some things can never be talked about, some things have no business ever being spoken of again and if Harry can somehow avoid confronting such things, he does it without question. It’s how he copes day to day, it’s how he gets by and manages a seemingly normal, healthy, maybe even happy life. Keeping the good, good and the bad, bad. Never mixing the two.

It’s how he functions as a father, separating and dissociating Avery away from any negative ideal in his past life. Harry has no other choice, but to keep it all separate, or else the sadness and the anger and the heartbroken frustration will consume him yet again.

“Yes.” Niall nods in confirmation. “I understand that she was Avery’s biological mother. It is indeed likely that Avery has a genetic disposition to cancerous ailments causing the early onset of her tumor. Especially considering that during gestation her mother was at the height of her terminal illness.”

This can’t be happening again. This can’t be real. In what world does any of this make sense?

Harry’s entire body feels numb and void as he tries to process. Eyes closed as he inhales and exhales slowly to prevent himself from bolting out of the room again.

His entire life for the past eight years has been about his daughter, she became his everything, devoting his entire existence to caring for her as best he could. Even though he fought it at first, Avery, his sweet little Avie, wiggled her way right into Harry’s broken heart and made him feel something again. She kept him moving, she kept him breathing, she kept him _sane_.

He was finally feeling ok. He finally felt like he had his life somewhat in order, at least on some kind of level. As an outsider looking in on his current life, it looks pretty good, maybe even great. When he left Louis’ doorstep he was a mess, a huge sodding miserable mess, a _burdensome_ mess. He didn’t know what to do or where to go, but deep down he knew what Louis had said to him that night was right.

_for her…for avery..._

It’s all a blur now really, a horrible misconstrued blur that he blocked out. He blocked it out so he could attempt to move on, sobering up and putting his life together as best he could. None of it was easy, nothing was simple, and it took him a long time to wrap his mind around being a parent, to truly accept it as his new reality. He struggled— _god_ he really fucking struggled with fatherhood. Every day for weeks on end, he battled with himself, forcing himself to do better until it started to feel a little easier, a little more natural.

Harry pushed through it and he overcame the bullshit life threw at him and now, after so many years of heartache, he is supposed to be well on his way to _happy_. He’s getting married to a wonderful man that he loves and his career is taking off, he’s a devoted dad to a beautiful little girl and everything is supposed to be ok now. It’s supposed to be fucking _ok_.

All Harry craves is normalcy, all he wants is that familiar regularity and stability that he used to dream about as a kid. He longs for it daily, he yearns for it with every chamber of his heart and it was finally his or so he believed, but maybe it’s doomed to never be.

_this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening…not again..._

“What…uh...w-what can we do?” Harry asks weakly and his voice sounds odd and hoarse even to his own ears. He feels so faint. One hand gripping his fiancé’s for dear life, the other clamped down on his own thigh, nails uncontrollably digging into the fabric of his trousers.

“Surgery is definitely the best option to remove the tumor.” Louis speaks up and at the sound of his voice Harry opens his eyes to look at him. “And based on how the surgery goes, we’ll determine how aggressive we need to be with any chemotherapeutic treatments.”

Now that Harry has locked eyes on Louis, he can’t seem to look away, almost like being paralyzed. “Will she…will she have to go through radiation?”

“No…” Louis shakes his head, but only marginally, as though he can’t quite move either. “Her brain is still in its developing stages so we want to avoid damaging it as much as possible. Radiation is often far too harsh on pediatric patients, so um...we’ll follow up the surgery with only chemotherapy instead of radiation therapy.”

Harry feels Jesse squeeze his hand again, running his thumb gently along Harry’s skin. His touch causes Harry to break the charged eye contact with Louis, sucking in another swift breath as he lowers his head down to his lap.

“Ok, so how long will she need to go through chemotherapy?” Jesse asks on Harry’s behalf, pulling Harry’s hand closer to him.

Louis doesn’t answer immediately this time so Niall starts to speak. “The better the surgery goes, the less amount of chemotherapy Avery will need to be exposed to. The chemotherapy drugs won’t directly target her brain, it’s designed to force her entire body to attack itself. The less of that she has to go through, the better because that’s what will really tax her body.”

Harry feels the pull of tears at his eyes again, thinking about Avery going through all that. He swipes at his eyes, sniffling a bit.

 _“_ I know this is scarily familiar to you, but this isn’t the same situation as your sister.” Niall explains sympathetically. “Medicine is always changing and it has advanced greatly since the last time. We are going to do everything we can and I can assure you that Dr. Tomlinson is one of the best at what he does.”

Harry glances at Louis to see him looking down at his own lap, avoiding all eye contact. He always knew Louis would be great someday and although there isn’t much room in his mind to think of anything but his daughter’s diagnosis, Harry still feels a slight pang of pride for him.

“She doesn’t know yet, right? Avery…she doesn’t know that she has…” Harry’s whispered words fade out as another wave of nausea sets in.

Niall shakes his head, leaning forward. “No, she doesn’t know, but we can talk to her, if you like—”

“No, let me tell her.” Harry finds himself saying, before he’s even processed it. “It might be less scary for her that way…”

“Are you sure, babe? Do you want me to be there?” Jesse asks supportively, turning to cup Harry’s face, wiping a fallen tear from his cheek.

“No…I um…I should probably do it myself...” Harry decides slowly, searching his fiancé’s eyes. “Thank you though.”

Avery shouldn’t find out news like this from anyone but Harry. And even though it might physically break him in half to tell her something like this, somehow, someway, Harry is going to find the strength to do it.

 

||✚||

 

“Daddy! You’re back!” Avery jumps up excitedly the second she sees him.

“Hi Munchie!” Harry smiles widely, using another one of his nicknames for his favorite little munchkin. He lifts Avery up off the ground and hugs her close, just relishing the feeling of holding her in his arms. He took awhile before coming in here, needing to get his mind right. Harry paced around the hospital alone for the past hour, he cried, he rationalized and then he cried some more. And he’s not here in this room now because he somehow summoned the strength and the courage to do this. No, he’s here now because he knows no matter how much he cries, this isn’t going to go away. “Did you have fun getting ice cream?”

“Yep!” Avery wraps her small arms around his neck. “I had our favorite, mint chocolate chip. But I put Oreos on top and purple sprinkles and fudge and green sprinkles and then more purple sprinkles.”

“Ooh that sounds so good, especially all the sprinkles. And you didn’t save me any?” Harry pouts exaggeratedly. He carries her over to the small couch along the wall, sitting down with Avery still held tightly in his arms.

“It would have melted, Daddy.” Avery tells him obviously, playing with his hair as she always loves to do.

“But maybe I like my ice cream melted.” Harry claims, still frowning.

Avery laughs, shaking her head. “No you don’t, I know you don’t.”

“And how do you know that, Avie?” Harry grins, surprising Avery by tickling her tummy. “How do you know!”

Avery giggles, squirming around as Harry tickles under her arms and peppers her face with little kisses.

“What was that, Avery? I can’t hear you?” Harry teases, laughing along with her.

“I know because I know you! Duh!”

“Oh, duh!” Harry echos, making a playfully forgetful face.

“You’re ridiculous, Daddy.” Avery smiles warmly, displaying the missing tooth she lost last week.

“Well I guess that’s probably true.” Harry grins back, kissing her cheek before adjusting her properly on his lap again. He wraps his arms around her and just holds her to his chest. Avery clings to him, tucking her head snuggly against her father. Harry closes his eyes for a moment and racks his mind trying to figure out how to break his eight-year-old daughter’s heart and tell her that she needs brain surgery.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTTZNUl4quQ&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvjOekjhf5G6YJsJvFkXmFb&index=3&t=0s)

“Avie, baby, I need to talk to you about something.” Harry starts slowly, chin resting atop her head as he rubs her back.

“I’m really sick, aren’t I?” Avery asks quietly before Harry can even explain anything to her. There’s something so odd in her voice, something that terrifies Harry.

Harry pulls back enough to look down into her innocent hazel eyes, wanting so much to be able to tell her no. Tell her that everything is fine and they get to go home and return to their lives and nothing is going to change.

“Yes.” Harry answers back in a whisper, caressing her cheek.

Avery nods her head slowly as if she was already expecting it. She’s always been very perceptive that way. “What kind of sick?”

“Um…” Harry blows out a heavy breath, chewing on his lip anxiously as he fights to stay calm.

This is so hard to explain to her, probably because it requires him to explain everything else he’s been carefully avoiding. Avery knows about Gemma, at least on a basic level. She knows that her mother passed away and left Avery to Harry to adopt and she understands that Harry is not her biological father. Harry probably wouldn’t have told her even that much, but when she turned six she started asking more and more questions about why she doesn’t have a mother. Avery would come home from school and talk all about how everyone in her class has two parents. And she’d go on to describe all the different kinds of families her friends have, _“Some have a mommy and a daddy and some have two mommies or two daddies and my friend Suzy said she lives with her mommy on school days, but then she lives with her daddy too, but only on weekends. And I wanna know why I only have one daddy? What happened to my other one? Why don’t I have a mommy? Did my other one not want me? Why didn’t they want me?”_

And it would always shatter Harry’s entire heart, because each time she asked, she looked that much more sad. She was only six years old and already having such a hard time. Sometimes Avery would come home crying because she felt left out at school on days like Family Day because she couldn’t fill out her family tree like everyone else. And sometimes Avery’s teacher would call Harry to tell him that his daughter was having a really bad day and she didn’t want to talk to anyone.

So when Avery was seven, Harry took her out of school for a day and they spent the entire day together. They made a fort in the living room out of nearly all the pillows and blankets in the house and Avery gave Harry a princess makeover where she “braided” his hair with ribbons and covered his face in glitter because princesses need to sparkle, of course. They baked cookies and watched movies, specifically musicals because Avery always loves to sing along with them. Her absolute favorite is _Singin’ in the Rain_ , she knows all the songs and even some of the choreography, so she and Harry always have the best time singing and dancing about the living room together when they watch it.

And at the end of the day, after they’d eaten far too many cookies and laughed over all their many inside jokes, Harry pulled Avery into his lap and had a talk with her about her mother and how she came to be his daughter. It was far from an easy conversation to have, there were plenty of tears from each of them and even though Harry tried, he never could fully explain to Avery exactly how Gemma died. Avery had tons of questions about how it all happened and she still does to this day, but Harry still can’t bring himself to openly talk about that time in his life. He continually puts so much effort into skirting around the topic, avoiding it as much as possible. And it seems that it has finally all caught up with him in the worst way imaginable.

“Erm…Avie, baby, do you remember when we had our special day together…and I told you that your mother was very sick when she had you?” Harry asks, still rubbing soothing patterns along her spine.

Avery nods her head gradually, peering up at him with wide eyes.

“Well um…” Harry pauses, chewing heavily on his inner cheek. “She wasn’t just sick…she…she had a tumor in her brain—cancer.”

Avery’s brows pull into a frown, sitting up a bit. “That’s how she died? From a tumor?”

Harry nods, watching her reaction closely as he tries to keep himself steady.

“But what do tumors do exactly?” Avery asks, sounding confused. “How can someone die from them?”

Harry takes a deep breath, trying to figure out how to explain all this to a child without frightening her. “Um, well Avie…tumors don’t belong in your body so having one can make you feel really tired all the time…and it’s not so easy to do things anymore because your body hurts you and it’s hard for someone to keep living when their body is so tired and sick.”

Avery blinks at Harry, still frowning as her mind puts together the pieces on her own.

“Daddy?” She asks slowly, wide honey eyes searching his forest ones. Her voice sounds so small and unsure, looking to her father for reassurance. “If she had a tumor…does that mean I have a tumor too? Do I have cancer? Is that why I get dizzy all the time and get really bad headaches?”

The look on her face is breaking him apart from the inside out. Harry can’t even answer her, turning his head away for a moment just to try and compose himself.

“Am I…” Avery starts again quietly as she processes, tentatively touching her own head as though she already knows. “Am I…going to die…like…”

Harry is trying so impossibly hard not to cry in front of her, to be brave and show her that she doesn’t need to be afraid, that she has nothing to worry about because she is going to beat this.

_everything is going to be ok_

“Yes, baby…you have a tumor too. But you aren’t going to going to…d-di—” Harry chokes on the word, closing his eyes for another moment to ground himself. He looks up to hold the water lining his eyes back and refocuses his mind solely on Avery, putting aside his emotions as best he can. “Sweetheart, you have amazing doctors and…a-and they have a plan to get you all better, ok? It’s going to be a-alright—you’re going to have to stay in the hospital for a bit and have surgery to take out your tumor and I know how scary that sounds but, but you’re going to be o-ok and…” His voice drops off as he sees the uncertainty laced in her golden hazel eyes and he can’t bring himself to talk about this any further, instead reaching over and pulling Avery to his chest in an impossibly tight embrace. “Avie, I l-love you.” He closes his eyes as he rests his cheek against the top of her head, still trying so hard to keep his welling up tears at bay. “I love you so much, Munchie.”

“I love you too, Daddy.” Avery whispers back, nuzzled to his chest.

They stay wrapped up in each other’s arms quietly and Harry can feel her silent tears against his shirt.

“Will I have to shave my head for the surgery?” Avery wonders out loud in a tiny voice. She sounds so scared and it’s a horrible sound to hear as a parent. Harry wishes with everything that he could take this burden from her. She’s too young to have to deal with this. She’s too young to be sick and frail. It’s not right, it’s not fair.

Harry tightens his hold around her, just wanting her to feel safe somehow. “I’m not sure sweetheart, but if you do I promise I’ll shave mine with you.”

Avery pulls back a bit and gives him a look. “Oh no, Daddy...you wouldn’t look good bald, I don’t think.” She tells him honestly, shaking her head.

Harry gives her a watery smile, chuckling a little. He strokes the sides of her face gently, tucking a few stray locks of her wavy hair behind her ears. “Well you’re the cutest, so I know you can pull it off.”

Avery smiles back, but it’s not as bright as it usually is—as it should be. And Harry would do anything to wipe that terrified look off of her face and never see it again. But there’s nothing he can do, nothing but hold his baby snuggly against his chest and press reassuring kisses to the top of her head and continue to tell her everything will be ok until he starts to believe it too.

 

||☤||

 

Louis is back in the imaging room reviewing Avery’s scans again. He is sitting here, slouched down in his chair, staring at the screen trying to convince himself that this will be easy. Not the surgery, but having Harry and Avery in his life again. It was excruciating to be without them for so long, to pick up his life and continue on as if they had never been an integral part of it. But maybe not having them around was better. Better than this at least.

There is often comfort in not knowing, ignorance is bliss and all that. Louis could have gone a long time without knowing that Harry is engaged to someone else, he could have gone without finding out that Harry found happiness somewhere else.

It was hard to live without them, but it’s almost harder to live on with them within arm’s distance, knowing that neither of them can ever be his again.

“Um... Dr. Tomlinson?”

Louis startles, twisting in the swivel chair to see Niall’s intern from earlier—Wesley, he remembers. She’s got her light brown hair tossed up into a messy bun atop her head, stray hairs held back by a pair of glasses.

“I don’t mean to bother you but uh…I um I just had a few questions about your intended approach for this case—I mean given the age of the patient and the location of the tumor...I was just curious about what your strategy was?”

Louis sits up in his chair, eyeing the intern curiously. “You’re Dr. Wesley, right?”

“Yeah, Charlie erm Charlotte—I mean no. My first name is Charlie um—I’m Dr. Wesley, yes.” She stutters, fumbling over her words so hard, it almost doesn’t make any sense. “Dr. Charlotte Wesley.”

Louis smiles a little, his sister’s name was Charlotte, although she never went by Charlie. He hasn’t let himself think about her in awhile, a long while. It’s a weird feeling that washes over him, but Louis pushes it aside before he can dwell on it for too long.

Charlie blushes in embarrassment, stuffing her hands down into her white coat. “Sorry, I ramble sometimes—sorry.”

Louis continues watching her silently, always amused by the bumblings of new doctors. Interns always get so flustered by the slightest of things because they don’t yet have the confidence of a full grown surgeon. “So Dr. Wesley, are you interested in neurosurgery as a specialty in the future?”

“Well um—yes.” Charlie nods, staring down at her feet as though just talking to Louis makes her incredibly nervous. “Actually Dr. Tomlinson...I um…I specifically wanted to come to SSMC for residency, because I wanted to have the opportunity to learn under you. I think your work is so inspiring and innovative and you’re not even that old yet and you’ve accomplished so much already and I uh I…well I just think you’re amazing and brilliant and I admire you so much—and I am _definitely_ gonna stop talking now...wow…”

After that last bit, Charlie blushes crimson, probably feeling as though she’s truly reached peak embarrassment by essentially fangirling over him.

Charlie reminds Louis a bit of his younger self, a rambling mess, just starting out and eager to learn from Dr. Carmichael. And if he’s learned anything from his own mentor, it’s that it is a doctor’s right of passage to give back. To pay it forward and continue to take the time to teach those who come after.

“I’m honored, Dr. Wesley. Really, I am.” Louis smiles appreciatively. Normally Louis picks a resident to tag team specific cases with him, especially cases that require major procedures and continued post-op care. But Charlie is so eager and already interested in Avery’s case, it can’t hurt to involve her. Besides she literally came here to learn from him, might as well start now. “How would you like to work on this case with me?”

“Oh my gosh, really? No way!” Charlie’s eyes grow wide with anticipation as her jaw drops for a moment in surprise. “I mean—yes, thank you Dr. Tomlinson for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.”

“Let’s hope not.”

 

||✚||

 

“Where did you go?”

Harry blinks, startled, shaking his head back to the present. His mind had wandered off as it has been doing incessantly ever since he found out about his daughter’s condition. His fiancé’s gentle grey eyes stare back at him in concern as they sit in his parked car. Jesse rests a reassuring hand on Harry’s thigh from the driver’s side, tracing light patterns to his jeans in a comforting way.

“You keep wandering off in your head.” Jesse continues gently. “How are you feeling? Talk to me.”

Harry doesn’t quite know what to say, he knows how spacey and out of it he looks, but he can’t help it. At this very moment, Avery is being officially admitted into the same surgical wing her mother died at. It’s not something that Harry can easily process or even begin to wrap his head around.

Harry was in no state to drive, so Jesse offered to take Harry home to gather a few of Avery’s things for her hospital room. But ever since Jesse pulled up to their house, they’ve just been sitting in the car in silence.

Harry turns away from the passenger window, slightly opening his mouth to try and answer. But he knows that anything he tries to say will only come out in the form of a sob.

“I…I don’t know what to feel…” Harry croaks, eyes stinging. He just keeps picturing the way Avery’s face looked after he talked with her, the fear and uncertainty that should have no place in her eyes.

“Oh I’m so sorry, babe.” Jesse leans in over the center console of the car to cup Harry’s face with both hands. “I hate seeing you so upset. I just want to help Harry, tell me what I can do to help.”

Harry’s mind goes blank once more. Unless Jesse can miraculously suck the cancerous cells from his sick baby’s body, there is nothing he can do. But Harry knows Jesse’s heart is in the right place, he’s so good to him. There seems to be nothing he wouldn’t do for Harry—after all, he moved out here just to be with Harry.

They’d been perfectly happy living in bright and sunny Los Angeles, comfortable and settled into their life together. Until Harry uprooted their lives to move back to Seattle.

Seven years ago Harry got a call from Adam, one of his good friends from back during his university days. Adam was heavy into business and working on starting his own marketing firm, specifically a creative and digital marketing agency. Remembering how talented Harry was back in school, Adam wanted to bring Harry on his team as the lead marketing consultant for his agency.

It seemed like the most opportune timing, considering where Harry was in life. He was working for a temp agency at the time, something Harry knew couldn’t sustain him and Avery long into the future, so he took a chance and moved them both to L.A.

That’s where he met Jesse, and it wasn’t one of those magical first encounters, or anywhere near love at first sight. Actually it was all business, Jesse is a lawyer and the law firm he was working for hired Adam’s marketing agency to rebrand their firm. Harry was the main consultant for the job, so naturally he ended up getting to know Jesse in the process.

They flirted harmlessly with each other back and forth, but Harry never intended to actually date him. He was trying to balance his newly blooming career and newfound single fatherhood, and in all honesty Harry really didn’t have the time to commit to seriously dating someone. But Jesse was persistent and cute and slowly but surely he started to grow on Harry.

Avery was only four when Harry and Jesse started dating and Harry didn’t let him around her at first because he didn’t want Avery to get too attached to him if they didn’t end up working out. He wanted to do everything he could to spare Avery any further confusion. Their unique situation is already confusing and complicated enough on its own, but at the same time Harry knew that his daughter craved the stability of another parent. Which is why Harry was relieved when things eventually did work out with Jesse, it gives Avery the chance to grow up in balanced home.

And when Adam told Harry that the marketing firm was doing well enough to branch out to other cities, Harry somehow found himself back in Seattle. The move came with a pay raise and a bit more flexibility in his schedule, but he still has to make business trips to L.A. a few times a quarter. Jesse was so incredibly lovely about it, in fact he responded to the news by getting down on one knee and proposing to Harry, promising to love and support him no matter what.

So Harry said yes, of course he said yes. They’re in love and they’re happy and everything is wonderful—or at least it was before today.

A few days ago Harry was planning a wedding. Blissfully planning a wedding to a man he loves. And now a wedding is the furthest thing on his mind.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I want you to know that I’m here for you, ok?” Jesse whispers, both hands still on Harry’s face. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this. And you shouldn’t worry about us or the wedding or anything else. Our primary focus should be about Avery and getting her well again.”

Harry nods, trying to stay positive, but all he really wants to do is lay down and cry. When he looks up to meet Jesse’s eyes, he can’t help the inevitable tears that begin to fall down his cheeks.

“Come here, babe.” Jesse pulls Harry into as much as a hug as he can within the confines of the car, rubbing his back. “She’s going to be ok. It’s all going to be ok…”

 

||☤||

 

“Lou, did you ever leave the hospital to play hooky?” Zayn asks, sliding into the booth next to Louis with a fresh round of drinks.

After the events of the last few hours, the last place Louis wanted to be was out at a bar attempting to have a good time with his friends. He loves his boys, he loves their ritual lad's night, but tonight Louis isn’t in the right frame of mind for this.

“Oh...um no…I got caught up…” Louis answers quietly, ducking his face behind the rim of his pint. Although Zayn just brought a new round, Louis hardly even touched his first one, still practically full to the brim.

Niall looks at him knowingly from across the table, expression understanding and soft. Louis is really only here right now because Niall found him after his bowel resection and practically twisted Louis’ arm all the way to the bar. He thought it would be good to unload and take his mind off things for a little bit. But the concept of that is so unrealistic Louis could laugh. How the hell is he supposed to take his mind off of something like this? It’s all he can bring himself to think about.

“That’s too bad.” Zayn shakes his head. “Next time I’ll go with you, I swear. Just say the word and I’m there.”

Why can’t Louis be one of those people that somehow manage to throw all their inhibitions and worries to the wind? Those people who can put aside their shitty day and enjoy their evening in peace until the bullshit returns the next day. Maybe Louis just isn’t that good at pretending.

It’s just so strange how a day can change for the worse so quickly. This morning he was fine, he was living his life as best he could and he was fine. Sure, he had an ugly feeling in his gut, lurking over him, but that’s not exactly a new thing. Day to day Louis carries around a sadness in his heart, a sinking in his chest. It never completely goes away, some days he’s just better at dealing with it.

And luckily Louis has people around him that make it a bit easier, people who really care about him, people he’s meant to be having a nice night with right now, but somehow can’t seem to handle it despite his best efforts.

“Isn’t that right, Tommo?”

“Huh—what?” Louis blinks back up at his friends, having not heard any of their conversation and it’s not the first time tonight that he’s totally zoned out.

Zayn frowns at him a little. “I just said I think it’s time we pull another prank on Aoki.”

“Oh right…yeah...definitely…” Louis tries, forcing half a smile he can’t quite manage.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, Louis.” Liam notices from across the table. “Which isn’t anywhere near normal for you. Is everything alright?”

Only Niall knows about what happened today and part of Louis wants to talk it out, but the other part—the bigger part, couldn’t talk about it if he tried. Probably because he hasn’t fully processed it himself yet. He feels numb, but maybe that’s not the best way to explain it because that would imply he can’t feel anything and truthfully Louis feels far too much.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Yeah.” Louis shakes his head too many times and he tries once again to offer a smile, but he knows how flat and dead it looks. He could keep sitting here, maybe guzzle down a few pints and wait for the alcohol to kick in as he spaces out over a conversation he couldn’t be less invested in. Or he can call a quits now and make a beeline for the exit, go back to the hospital and find some kind of welcomed distraction. The decision is almost too easy. “You know what, lads—I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

“No Louis, we just got here.” Zayn jumps in first. “You can’t leave yet.”

“I know, I know…I’m sorry, but I gotta go.” Louis repeats, feeling a bit more anxious.

“Lou, I really think you should stay.” Niall urges, eyeing Louis seriously. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“Are you ok? Is everything alright?” Liam asks again with more worry than the first time. His gaze trails over to Niall, giving him a questioning look. “Is he ok? What happened today?”

And Louis just knows that if he doesn’t answer truthfully, Liam is going to start badgering Niall for the answers Liam knows he has and then Zayn will chime in and they’re all going to sit around this booth like mother hens and worry incessantly over him. But it’s either going to happen while Louis is still sitting here or after he’s already long gone and Louis isn’t really in the mood to mothered right now.

“I’m fine, yeah. I just uh—I remembered that I have to follow up with a patient of mine. No big deal.” Louis lies, as three sets of concerned eyes stare him down, not believing him for a moment.

“Why don’t you have one of your residents do it if it’s not a big deal?” Zayn suggests lightly.

“It’s um—I can’t.” Louis dismisses briefly, not even bothering to try too hard on his excuse because he knows his friends see right through him anyway. He opens up his wallet and drops a few twenties on the table before quickly squeezing himself out of the booth. “Have a round on me, ok? I’ll see you guys.”

And with that, Louis is gone, out of the door of the bar in seconds flat before his friends can drag him back. SSMC is only a block away from the bar, so Louis makes it back to the hospital in record time.

After a day like today, a normal person would probably just go home. Curl up in bed to do something brainless, uncommitted, and easy to unwind and try to mentally prepare for the next day. But Louis isn’t normal, he’s a surgeon. A surgeon with so much emotional baggage, it’s a wonder why he’s allowed to cut into people for a living.

Louis heads towards the elevators, planning on changing back into a pair of navy scrubs before checking in at the E.R. for any Neuro traumas he can steal. Once on the lift, he pulls his phone out of his back pocket, answering a few texts he missed earlier, and when he lifts his head again, the elevator doors open and there stands Harry.

Harry falters for a moment, obviously caught off guard as they make reluctant eye contact. He looks like he might just walk away completely, but then he shakes himself out a bit, taking a breath as he boards the elevator in silence.

They stand in the confined space as the doors close, keeping themselves as far apart as realistically possible. But the tension remains unbearable, practically asphyxiating Louis’ vital organs to oblivion. He is just counting down the seconds in his head, watching the lights of each passing floor flicker by in essentially slow motion, wondering why the fuck these elevators insist on being so damn slow.

Louis certainly isn’t going to say a single thing and he is praying that Harry won’t either, hoping that by some small chance he can escape this death trap of an elevator without a single acknowledgement. But Louis has never been that lucky.

“So…um…” Harry starts, glancing at Louis tentatively, twisting around the rings on his fingers.

“We don’t have to do this.” Louis interrupts instantly, not even turning towards him. He can’t turn towards Harry—he can’t _look_ at Harry. “We don’t need to do the whole small talk thing, we don’t have to exchange stories about our lives and catch up. You don’t have to pretend to care. I don’t want to and you don’t want to, so let’s just not. We can keep this civil and superficial. I’m just the doctor of your daughter.”

There is a long silence stretching between them, a nearly unbearable silence. Louis almost wants to say more just to fill the empty void of sound, but thankfully the elevator chimes its arrival.

“Ok then, Dr _._ Tomlinson.” Harry offers pointedly, slipping past Louis to his floor. He stops briefly, half-looking over his shoulder. “Um…have a nice evening.”

“Same to you.” Louis forces a tight, closed mouth smile, holding it on his unwilling face until the elevator doors shut again. And once he’s all alone in the square space, Louis deflates, letting out a heavy breath as he braces the wall with one hand.

“ _Fuck_ …” He closes his eyes and just tries to find his equilibrium, tries to balance himself until his breath slowly starts even out.

Will this ever get any easier? Is this going to happen every single time he lays eyes on Harry? Will his body always feel the need to resort back to panic mode at the mere mention of his name or the sound of his voice?

Standing in the elevator’s chambers by himself, Louis is starting to understand that this is going to be anything but easy.


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [songs](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVviZPHRturfJllgd_ZdLASo) for three + four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends! im uploading two chapters yaaay, so i hope you enjoy three and four :) 
> 
> love lex .x

_feel it stutter_.

||☤||

For years Louis has taken to routine morning jogs. If he isn’t paged into the hospital early or on-call, Louis wakes up bright and early, and suits himself up into his running gear. Then he straps Benedict to a leash, pops in his earbuds and off they go. Benny absolutely loves it, never passing on a chance to run his little heart out, always pushing Louis to run faster. And Louis has surprisingly gotten quite good since he first started, able to run and run for miles on end without feeling the need to stop. He even bought an Apple Watch to track his fitness and all that, which is sort of fun, he supposes.

Louis tells himself that he runs to clear his mind for the day, but really he runs to distract his mind. To momentarily hit pause on all the many arduous things that traipse through his thoughts from minute to minute. It’s quiet when he runs, it’s _peaceful_. Watching his calculated steps hit the pavement one by one, attempting to keep his strides even and level as his body falls into a rhythmic pattern. It’s sort of like how he feels in the O.R., able to put his mind on autopilot and just relax, needing only to focus on his breathing. It’s utterly therapeutic and soothing in so many ways, Louis is practically addicted to it.

But on this particular morning as Louis runs, he doesn’t feel distracted at all. In fact, all he can think about are the same two people and how they somehow ended up right back in his life. But he’s only giving himself until the end of his run to meditate on anything relating to that because this morning Louis woke up with a new, confident determination. He is absolutely, _unequivocally_ , determined to not let any of this bother him in the slightest.

Last night, Louis got several texts from Liam asking him if he wants to talk, indicating that Niall obviously filled him in last night at the bar after he left. And Zayn also left his fair share of messages, promising that he’ll be there for Louis whenever he needs him. But Louis easily assured each of them that he is one hundred percent, perfectly fine because once again, he is _not_ going to let this unexpected thing shake up his life. He is going to march right into that hospital with his chin up and head held high, and he is going to do his fucking job completely unaffected by any of his past demons.

e _verything is fine, i’m fine, i’m ok, i’m fine…_

And out of utter self-preservation, Louis is going to keep his distance this time. He is not going to get involved and he is damn well not going to get overly invested. He is strictly going to stay within the lines of his job and perform Avery’s surgery and that’s it.

How things ended between him and Harry had been ugly. And it left memories Louis never wants to relive. The baby he knew and loved is a little girl now, a girl he doesn’t know or need to get to know. And the Harry he knew was just a young romantic who inadvertently broke his heart and is now engaged to someone else. Their lives most certainly do not need to be intertwined again, in fact they have literally no reason to.

And it is for that reason that Louis purposely has assigned interns and residents to do all of Avery’s labs and pre-op procedures. Carefully insuring that he does not have to get involved beyond what is absolutely necessary.

But as Louis passes by Avery’s room that morning, just trying to mind his own business on his way down to Radiology, his gaze deviates from his intended direction. He probably shouldn’t have looked, but now that he already has, Louis can’t help but notice his intern, Dr. Wesley, struggling to get Avery’s IV to stick properly.

Louis stops walking, watching on from a distance outside of Avery’s room. She’s a small feisty little thing, fiery, just like her mother was, Louis can tell. But she is clearly in pain from being repeatedly pricked by a thick needle. Avery squirms around a bit, wincing away from Charlie’s touch as she grows in discomfort.

“Dr. Wesley, you’re hurting the patient.” Louis steps into the room briefly, unable to completely ignore the situation despite not wanting to get too involved.

“I’m uh…I’m sorry, Dr. Tomlinson.” Charlie stammers, attempting to stick her again with a 24-gauge needle, which is definitely too big for her veins, considering how small she is.

Avery winces once more as the intern fumbles again, missing the right vein completely and having to retract the needle again.

“Don’t apologize to me, it’s your patient that is suffering.” Louis frowns, arms crossed over his chest as he observes. “Have you never put in a central line for a pediatric patient before?” 

“I have—I have I swear, I just—her veins are so small and faint...” Charlie defends apologetically, sounding nervous. The decreased size and anatomical variation of pediatric patients often makes it quite hard to establish a stable intravenous line, especially for someone with little experience.

Louis watches Avery’s face closely and she’s fighting tears, biting down on her lip as she tries not to cry. And it tugs at Louis’ heart because she’s must be so scared, it’s not fun being poked at and prodded incessantly. He is all for teaching and facilitating a learning environment for his interns, but not if the patient is in pain because of it.

“Ok, stop.” Louis instructs, placing a hand on the intern. Charlie obediently steps aside, practically in relief and Louis moves to sit down on the bed next to Avery, meeting her eye level in an attempt to relate to her. “Hi Avery, I’m Dr. Tomlinson. Remember me from the other day?”

She nods her head slowly, but she doesn’t look like she’s willing to trust any doctors right now. Avery sits folded into herself, body language closed off entirely.

Louis notices the plush walrus tucked tightly under her other arm. The gray material is faded and worn down, but he still instantly recognizes it from when she was a baby. He can’t believe she still has it after all this time—well actually it makes sense because she was always so obsessed with the thing, even as a baby.

“Do you like walruses?” Louis asks gently, giving her a smile.

 Avery nods again, hugging it closer to her chest, but still not speaking or lifting her head.

“You do? That’s really cool. I like them too.” Louis grins. “What’s your walrus’s name?”

Avery bites at her lip before whispering. “...Lemon.”

“Lemon? What a curious name for a walrus.” Louis widens his grin, already endeared. “Does he smell like lemons too?”

“No…” Avery smiles shyly a bit, glancing up at Louis briefly and it’s not much but it’s progress. “I just thought his nose looked like a lemon.”

Louis considers the walrus momentarily and he has to admit that she’s not wrong, the only thing making the nose look any less like a lemon is the peachy coloring instead of yellow. “Oh wow Avery! You’re right, it really does look just like a tiny lemon. I think you gave your walrus friend the perfect name.”

Avery gives him a proper smile this time, hugging Lemon closer to her body.

“So Avery, I’m really sorry about your arm.” Louis tries next, still speaking in soft approachable tones. “I know it’s not fun getting poked at like that.”

“I don’t like needles.” Avery whispers nervously, hanging her head a little again, but not completely shutting off to him.

“Me neither. They’re the _worst_.” Louis agrees, scrunching up his nose. “When I was your age, I would scream and cry whenever I had to get a shot. I absolutely hated it. I was so embarrassing.” 

“Really?”

“Really, really.” Louis confirms, with a knowing smile. “And to be honest, I’m probably just as bad right now.”

Avery cracks a small smile, giggling a little bit. “But you’re all grown up now.”

“I know! That just makes it so much more embarrassing, doesn’t it?” Louis grins widely. “Ok Avery, how about I make a little deal with you?”

Avery slowly tilts her head in question. “What kind of deal?”

“Ok, so we’re all scared, right?” Louis starts, leaning in a bit closer like he’s sharing a secret with her. “You and me, we’re scared of needles and Dr. Wesley is apparently scared of using needles correctly.”

Avery giggles again, glancing at Charlie standing off to the side.

“So how about I let Dr. Wesley give me an IV in my arm, if you let me give you one?” Louis suggests. “That way we all overcome our fears a little. Deal?”

Avery thinks about it for a moment, eyeing Louis curiously as though she is trying to decide whether to trust him or not. “Ok…” She nods her head gradually. “But you can go first.”

“Ok, I’ll go first. But only if you hold my hand.” Louis adds, extending his hand out to her.

“I can do that.” Avery smiles easily, taking Louis’ hand and linking their fingers together.

“Oh thank you, Avery!” Louis exaggeratedly sighs with relief as he squeezes her hand. “I’m just _sooo_ nervous! I need someone brave like you on my side.”

“You don’t need me to be brave.” Avery frowns, shaking her head.

“Oh, yes I do.” Louis tells her seriously. “I’m not gonna make it through this without you. I feel braver just by holding your hand. You’re the bravest person in this room.”

“No, I’m not...” Avery doubts, brows still furrowed skeptically.

“Yes, you are, I can see it.” Louis defends confidently. “Dr. Wesley, can you see how brave Avery is?”

“Yes, of course!” Charlie agrees right away. “She’s practically glowing with bravery.”

Louis nods, gasping loudly as he looks back at Avery with widened eyes. “Oh my god, Avery—you _are_ glowing!”

Avery must be starting to believe Louis, at least somewhat, because she beams back at him, looking far less scared than she just was moments ago. And her smile is so incredibly bright and lovely, Louis thinks she may really be glowing.

“Well I think you’re brave too.” Avery decides, giving Louis’ larger fingers a squeeze.

“Mmm…we will see about that in a bit won’t we?” Louis shrugs off his lab coat and tentatively offers his bare arm to Dr. Wesley. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“I’ll try my best.” Charlie promises, switching out her gloves before prepping an adult sized 16-gauge catheter needle.

Louis watches her methods closely, quietly shaking his head at the size catheter she picks, knowing that it’s far too large. Especially since his IV isn’t even going to be used for anything but a demonstration.

Charlie corrects herself by choosing the smaller 18G catheter instead, spreading out all the tools she’ll need on the tray table once again.

“Oh my god, I can’t watch!” Louis squirms dramatically, turning his head away and leaning in towards Avery, causing her to giggle at him.

“It’s ok, just hold my hand.” Avery moves to wrap both of her tiny hands over Louis’, trying her very best to comfort him.

Meanwhile, Charlie fastens the tourniquet around Louis’ upper arm to secure blood flow before palpating his veins. Then she swabs the area for thirty seconds to sanitize the injection site.

“Avery, are you looking? Is she doing it right?” Louis whispers to Avery, squeezing his eyes closed.

“She’s doing good I think...I’m not really sure.” Avery tries, whispering back.

“Ok, I trust you, Avery. Don’t let her hurt me.”

“Ok, I’m watching.” Avery promises, holding his hand tightly.

Charlie pulls his skin tight to best expose the vein, lining the tip of the needle parallel to his skin. “Ready, Dr. Tomlinson?”

Louis shakes his head to and fro, huddled up against Avery with his eyes still closed. Whether he is being purposely dramatic and ridiculous for Avery’s sake or acting in genuine fear of needles, Louis will never say.

“Hey, it’s over.” Avery says softly, giving Louis’ free hand another squeeze.

“It’s over? It’s done?” Louis sighs heavily, sitting up and touching his own chest in relief. “See Avery, I’m actually sweating bullets right now. What would I have ever done without you? I’m a right mess—that was _sooo_ scary.”

“But you did it!” Avery reminds, smiling proudly.

“I did.” Louis nods, matching her smile. “And so can you.”

“Alright.” Avery agrees slowly, offering Louis her arm.

“Wesley, while I’m handling this, would you mind running down to the lab for me? I was meant to be heading down there.”

“Yes, right away, Dr. Tomlinson.” Charlie says, striping her fingers of her gloves before heading out.

“Thank you.” Louis decides to just keep the catheter in his arm for now without the tubing. It doesn’t really feel like much once it’s in and he wants to continue to reassure Avery. He tapes the end of the IV down so it doesn’t move as he works on Avery.

Louis riffles through the tray table, sanitizing his hands and gloving up before prepping the smaller 26G needle instead of the size Charlie was using.

“What does the W stand for?” Avery asks randomly.

“The W?” Louis follows her line of sight down to his I.D. badge clipped to the breast pocket of his scrubs. “Oh, Walrus.”

Avery giggles, showing her little dimples. “Your middle name is Walrus?”

“Yep, Dr. Louis Walrus Tomlinson, that’s me.” Louis jokes, sounding perfectly serious as he ties the tourniquet above her elbow. “I know it’s a huge coincidence considering that you love walruses and everything, but it’s _totally_ true.”

“I don’t believe you.” Avery grins.

“And why ever not?” Louis frowns in mock offense, pressing down on her tiny vein a bit to get the prominent one to swell up. “I’m a doctor, you can trust me!”

“Cuz that’s not a real name!”

“Yes it is, it’s _my_ name.” Louis argues stubbornly, swabbing her arm.

“Nuh uh.” Avery shakes her head.

“Yeah huh.” Louis nods his head back.

Avery narrows her hazel eyes at him, staring Louis down in a way she most likely believes is persuasively menacing, but all Louis thinks is that she’s so ridiculously adorable.

“Ok, ok, you caught me.” Louis sighs in exaggeration. “So my W name isn’t as cool as Walrus unfortunately, it’s William.”

“William is cool too.”

“Well if you say so it must be true, because you’ve got to be the coolest Avery I’ve ever met.” Louis compliments, unlocking the catheter and aligning it with her pulsing vein. “Ok, just a little pinch…”

Avery doesn’t even so much as flinch when Louis successfully gets the needle to stick, puncturing the vein. He seals the entry point, taping down the tubing before connecting a fresh bag of fluids for her drip.

“And there we go, it’s all in. You’re done.” Louis stands to dispose of the sterile wrappers and his used gloves. “See, not so bad right?”

“No, not so bad.” Avery looks down at her arm curiously, twisting it a little as she stares at the new tubes coming from it.

“Told you.” Louis sits back down next to her. “And the great thing is that once it’s in, we don’t have to do it again for awhile. Well unless you pull it out, which I know you won’t do.”

“No, I won’t touch it.” Avery promises.

“Good.” Louis nods, smiling. He picks up the tablet Charlie left, reading over Avery’s chart to pick up where she left off.  “Alright, so I’ve got to do a quick physical on you and also get a few more scans.”

“Why do you need so many scans?” She wonders and Louis is quickly learning that Avery is a very inquisitive child, loving to ask questions.

“Oh well, basically they tell me exactly what parts of your brain are sick so I can map out the best way to make you better without hurting the parts that are healthy.” Louis explains easily.

“Ooh.” Avery nods in understanding. “That’s kinda cool. Like a treasure map.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Louis laughs a little, nodding. “Ok, can you sit up for me?”

“Dr. Louis—may I call you Dr. Louis?” Avery interrupts herself, ever the polite and well-mannered child.

“I don’t mind.” Louis grins. She’s not only polite, but she also seems very mature for her age. Probably the product of being raised with only one parent; a level of maturity is almost required with what she was born into.

“Ok, well Dr. Louis…I have a question?” Avery starts, sitting up a bit straighter.

“And maybe, just maybe, I have an answer, but only maybe.” Louis teases, sliding his stethoscope from his neck.

“Did you know my Daddy?” Avery rushes out, as though she’d been holding in that question all day. “Like, before yesterday?” 

Louis raises an eyebrow at her, but somehow the question doesn’t really catch him off guard. “What makes you think that?”

“He acts really weird around you.”

“Take a deep breath for me.” Louis instructs stethoscope held to the front of her chest. “What kind of weird?”

“The weird kind of weird.” Avery explains with shrug.

“Mmm.” Louis moves the scope a few inches. They say kids pick up on everything and it’s probably true. “Another deep breath.”

Avery inhales again, still eyeing Louis curiously. “Also, you both talk the same—you’re both British.”

Louis can’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head. “Well, that’s just a coincidence.”

“I like to copy him sometimes.” Avery mocks in her best British accent, which sounds surprisingly convincing for someone who most likely has never been to England. “I think I’ve gotten quite good, to be honest.”

Louis smiles fondly, giving Avery a little applause. “Oh that’s marvelous, darling. Very, very good. I almost mistook you for The Queen herself.”

“Thank you, thank you.” Avery properly bows a little, a knowing smile spreading across her face. But then she rights herself, gazing at Louis expectantly once again. “So did you know him or not? Don’t avoid the question, Dr. Louis.”

Add sassy to the list of Avery’s discovered traits. Louis finds himself growing more and more fascinated by this little eight-year-old the longer he interacts with her.

Louis narrows his eyes, debating telling her the truth or not. She doesn’t need to know and he could easily lie, unless maybe she would pick up on that too? Exactly how intuitive are children again?

“Yes, I knew him many years ago.” Louis answers briefly, moving the scope to the back of her chest. “Ok last one, deep breath.”

Her eyes widen with interest. “Really?”

“Mhmm.” Louis nods, draping his scope around his neck again. He pauses a moment in consideration, biting his lip before continuing. “I knew you too…”

“You did?” If at all possible, Avery’s already wide, golden eyes widen even more in surprise. “But I don’t remember...”

Louis wishes he could say he’s surprised that Harry never mentioned his existence to Avery. Of course he left it out, it’s of no significant relevance to her anyway. “Well, you were only a baby at the time.”

“A baby?” Avery gasps, trying to conceptualize the idea with her brow furrowed.

“Yep, the cutest little chubby-faced baby.” Louis recalls with a smile. “We were really close, you and me. We had a lot of fun nights together.”

“What’d we do?” She asks curiously.

Louis can’t even begin to explain how strange it is to be talking about any of this again out loud. Especially with none other than Avery herself. Grown up enough to have full conversations, and ask insightful questions. And with every word he speaks to her, Louis knows he is going back on his promise to himself, to not get involved, to stay out of it. But yet, Louis still doesn’t stop himself.

“Well, you were my charting buddy.” Louis starts, against his better judgment. “For some reason it always calmed you down when I’d talk to you, so I started reading all my charts out loud. And you’d just sit there quietly in my arms—just watching me, so peaceful and content. And then you’d smile your little heartbreaker smile.”

“Little heartbreaker?”

“Yeah…I always thought that your smile could claim a million hearts.” Louis tells her, a hint of rediscovered pride in his voice.

Avery smiles full on, dimples, missing tooth and all and it’s still the most beautiful thing Louis has ever seen.

“That’s it.” Louis softly smiles back, feeling his heart swell up in his own chest. “Just as heart-stopping as before. We were so attached that I even brought you with me to work. I’d carry you around, strapped to my chest throughout the whole hospital and everyone assumed that you were mine. My Aves...” Louis recounts, allowing himself to go soft at the memory. A memory he has repeatedly swallowed more times than he can count over the years. “That was my nickname for you. Aves.”

“Your Aves...” Avery repeats almost in awe, as though she likes the idea. “That all really happened?”

“Mhmm. It really did.” Louis nods, although it all seems like a lifetime ago. Sometimes he has to ask himself the same thing. “I was younger then and just starting out as a doctor—you know how Dr. Wesley never seems to know which way is up?”

“Yeah.” Avery giggles, nodding. “She’s always messing up.”

“Well that’s cuz she’s learning, she’ll get better.” Louis assures. “But try to imagine that as me and then I had you on top of it.”

“Ooh, that sounds bad.”

“I got into trouble all the time and I was never where I supposed to be.” Louis describes, laughing a bit because it all sounds so outlandishly ridiculous. God only knows how he managed it as long as he did. “I was trying to be a good, new doctor and make my bosses happy but still somehow try to take care of you. I was literally always scrambling—just an absolute mess.”

“That sounds _really_ bad.” Avery emphasizes this time, raising her eyebrows.

“Not _sooo_ bad. You made it better.”

“Dr. Tomlinson?” Charlie pokes her head into the room.

“Yes, Wesley?” Louis twists around to answer.

“Um...they’re requesting a Neuro consult downstairs. It’s urgent.”

“Alright, I’ll be right there.” Louis rights himself, picking up his discarded lab coat. “Would you mind taking her up for her scans?”

“Oh, sure, no problem.” Charlie nods right away. “I can handle that.”

“Dr. Louis, will you come visit me again?” Avery wonders hopefully, sitting up.

“Well, of course, little love. I’ve got to check up on you.”

“Not as my doctor, but…just...for me.” Avery says, voice going quiet as if she’s nervous to even ask. “I like talking to you. I feel safer…I don’t know…I just—will you?” She looks up at him with wide sienna eyes, so expressive.

Louis stares at her, heart suddenly surging in his chest, taking him completely by surprise. It’s been eight years and yet this girl is already one step closer to stealing his heart again. So simply, so easily. As if it always belonged to her.

“Yeah Aves. Yes, I will.” He nods genuinely, smiling softly.

“Really? You promise?”

“Oh, I _swear_ it.” Louis crosses his chest. “And next time you can just call me Louis.”

“I won’t get in trouble?” Avery worries. “Daddy said I should always be polite and respectful, especially to grown ups.”

“You won’t get in trouble, I promise.” Louis assures her.

“Ok…Louis...” Avery whispers cautiously, leaning in a bit with an adorably guilty smile smeared on her face, as if she is somehow breaking the law by not referring to him by his title. “See you soon.”

“Seeya little heartbreaker.” Louis smiles, waving at her from the doorway.

 

||☤||

 

“Don’t react, I have to tell you something.” Niall announces quietly, sliding himself next to Louis along the nurses’ station ledge.

“Ok…” Louis spins around slowly to face him in curiosity.

“First of all—are you ok?” Niall asks in concern. “You ran out so fast last night and I know it’s gotta be hard with Ha—”

“I’m good. I’m fine.” Louis interjects simply.

“Really?” Niall double checks, searching Louis’ eyes for any warning signs.

“Yes, _yes_!” Louis assures, waving Niall off. “Now tell me your thing.”

Niall takes a long, contemplative breath before scrunching up his facial features and rushing out his words. “I slept with Charlie.”

“The _intern_?!” Louis blurts way louder than he meant to, eyes widened with surprise. “You slept with an intern!? When? Where? How—”

“Shh!” Niall jumps, slamming a hand over Louis’ mouth. Although Louis easily frees himself from Niall’s paranoid hold. “Someone will hear you—”

“Way to go, Horan!” Zayn hoots, having obviously overheard the whole thing as he casually strolls towards them. “Which intern did you fuck?”

“Oh my god! Would you _please_ keep your voice down? Lou, this is exactly why I specifically told you not to react.” Niall groans, throwing his head back before glancing at Zayn. “You were definitely not supposed to hear that.”

“Niall!” Zayn gasps on offense, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “You weren’t going to tell _me_? One of your closest friends?”

“You know I love you Zayn, but you have a big mouth.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone, damn.” Zayn defends, sounding slightly offended. “But seriously...which intern? Just curious.”

“Wesley.” Louis tells him, still extremely lost about how that managed to happen in the first place.

“Nice. She’s hot, bro. Like that kind of nerdy, but illusive and yet still sexy kind of hot.” Zayn describes causing Niall to just sigh heavily again. “I didn’t think you were the type to prey on interns?”

“I didn’t prey on her—it just happened!” Niall tries, clearly exasperated. “I don’t know!”

“You don’t know?” Louis frowns, narrowing his eyes as he waits for Niall to explain.

“No, I was drunk? Well sort of—not really.” Niall goes back and forth with himself, swaying on his feet. “I stayed at the bar after you guys last night and she was there and we were talking and drinking, but mostly talking and I don’t know…”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Stop saying that!” Zayn bursts. “What happened after the bar? Details Horan! We need details!”

“Ok, ok! So she came back to mine and—”

“Wait, you took her to _your_ condo?” Louis interrupts in genuine surprise. Niall has always been a private person; it’s takes a while for him to open up to people which Louis could always relate to. So it’s kind of a big deal for him to be moving this fast with someone. “Just like that?”

“I guess?” Niall shrugs bashfully.

“Niall, who _are_ you?” Zayn gasps, looking Niall up and down like he just met him. “I’ve never met this side of you before. I like it…”

“Shut up.” Niall laughs lightly, knocking his shoulder against Zayn’s.

“Ok, so you had sex and she left or you had sex and she stayed?” Louis asks next, getting back on topic. “Because those are two completely different things.”

“Facts.” Zayn concurs right away. “Also, for clarification, she could have stayed and had more sex or stayed and cuddled and talked about childhoods and deep dark secrets and shit, which is also not even close to the same.”

“Ooh, you’re so right, Z.” Louis nods in agreement.

Niall shifts his gaze back and forth between them, biting his lower lip.

“So! Which is it?” Zayn presses.

“...She stayed...” Niall starts sheepishly.

“And?”

“She stayed and we cuddled and talked...”

“Oh my god…” Louis breathes, rubbing his temples as he walks in a small circle.

“Whoa man...whoa...” Zayn awes, holding his hands up. “You know what Liam would say if he were here right now?”

“What?”

“ _Niall Horan_!” Zayn snaps, mocking Liam’s disapproving tone. “That girl is only 2 years old, how dare you take advantage of her! You’re a grown man!”

“First of all, she’s 25 and I didn’t take advantage of her, she came over because she wanted to come over.” Niall defends. “Second of all...holy shit that really sounded like Liam’s voice. That’s amazing, Zayn.” 

“He’s like, my husband or whatever.” Zayn shrugs, grinning. “I know him.”

Liam absolutely despises all intern/attending relationships, claiming that it makes the playing field uneven and confuses things—and it’s not like he’s wrong. They’re both adults, but in two different circles of life, Niall is essentially her boss for fucks sake.

“So back to Charlie, do you like her or something— you have to like her.” Louis assumes, processing for himself without Niall’s input. “I don’t even remember the last time you brought anyone who wasn’t one of us to your place.”

“I don’t know, I told you it just sort of...happened. I mean I do like her, she’s really cool and smart and easy to talk to—like, relatable you know?” Niall rambles, something he hardly ever does. “She grew up in Chicago, but she went to UC San Diego for med school…which is kinda cool cuz I grew up in San Diego and—”

“I didn’t ask for her whole life’s story.” Zayn stops him mid sentence. “I get it, ok? She’s cool and you like her. Wonderful.”

“But Niall, she’s an intern...” Louis reminds, not that he disapproves or anything. He only wants what’s best for his friend. “I mean it’s fine, complicated— _really_ fucking complicated…but fine...”

“I know, I know.” Niall sighs heavily, looking horribly conflicted. “I never do things like this—you guys know that. I don’t know what I should do…”

“What do you want to do?” Zayn asks.

“See her again...” Niall admits after a beat.

“Good, because here she comes.” Zayn nods his head behind Niall where Charlie is approaching from the elevators.

“ _Shit_.” Niall groans, as he glances behind his shoulder to see her. “Zayn, please don’t—”

“Hey there, Dr. Wesley!” Zayn grins enthusiastically, looking her up and down like he knows exactly what she was up to last night, which he does. Niall already looks positively mortified standing next to him.

“Erm hi...uh Dr. Malik…” Charlie blinks slowly, briefly making unsettled eye contact with both Louis and Niall.

“So I heard you went to UCSD…how’d you like that good ole California sun?” Zayn asks with a knowing smirk, obviously eluding to Niall, instead of the actual sunshine in Southern California.

“I uh...um…” Charlie’s cheeks flush immediately as she adjusts her glasses, trying to respond normally, but failing for the most part. She glances at Niall, sending out some kind of distress signal with her eyes. “Erm, Dr. Horan, can I talk to you for a minute please—for a uhm consult…”

Niall nods his head far too many times, far too fast. “Yes—yeah. Sure. I’m coming, one sec.”

“Consult…” Zayn cackles to himself, giving Niall a knowing look as he licks his lips.

“God, you’re the fucking _worst_.” Niall hisses under his breath, glaring at Zayn before chasing after Charlie.

“100 bucks says they start dating in two months.” Zayn says to Louis, leaning back against the ledge as he watches the attending and intern pair walk off together.

“Please, $150 says it’ll happen within a month.” Louis counters confidently.

“Wow, you think so?” Zayn asks in surprise, offering Louis a hand to shake. “I’ll take those odds.”

Louis shakes his hand happily. “Alright and 200 bucks says they fuck in an on-call room and Liam walks in on them.” 

Zayn doubles over laughing. “Honestly, I will personally make sure that happens.”

Louis snickers along with him. “And then we can use the money to go out to a nice dinner and laugh about it all night.”

“Fuck yes, bro.” Zayn high fives him. “It’s a date.”

 

||☤||

 

“Psst!”

Louis furrows his eyebrows at the sound, lifting his head up and looking around the floor. It doesn’t take long for him to notice Avery through the window of her room making cute little faces at him to get his attention. Louis makes a show of looking around behind him theatrically, as though he doesn’t know who exactly she is trying to talk to.

Avery waves her hands at him even more, practically jumping right of her hospital bed.

“Me?” Louis mouths dramatically, pointing to his own chest in question.

Avery nods happily with a wide smile, beckoning him to come to her room. And Louis can’t quite say no to that—she’s way too cute and she knows it.

“Hi Louis!” Avery beams excitedly, waving both her hands at him the very second he walks in.

“Hello there, little love.” Louis laughs, endeared. He glances around the room briefly. “Are you still all by yourself?”

“Yes. Jesse is supposed to be keeping me company because my Daddy had to go to work.” Avery explains, sounding a bit sad. “But Jesse just left me with a coloring book and crayons from the gift shop.” She glances down at the items on her tray table in distaste, looking absolutely bored by them.

Louis crosses the room to sit next to her on the side of the bed. He flips through the array of brand new coloring books curiously. “These aren’t so bad.”

“Coloring is such a babyish thing to do. It’s like he thinks I’m 4 or something. I’m grown. I’m eight and a half. Basically nine, which is basically ten. I’m nearly a _decade_.” Avery emphasizes, seeming so proud of her alleged old age.

Louis smirks, nearly rolling his eyes at the eight-year-old. “Well I’m a _real_ grown up, a little more than three decades old and I love coloring.”

“Really? You do?”

“Mhmm.” Louis hums nodding his head. “I think it’s really fun. It’s cool because there are so many different ways the picture can come out, right? And it’s all up to you and how you’re feeling to make it come to life.”

“Maybe I’d have more fun if you colored with me?” Avery suggests shyly, peeking up through her lashes. “But you don’t have to—you’re probably busy with…doctor things and you’ve probably wasted enough time with me today already. Never mind. It’s ok.”

Louis knows how terrifying this must all be for a little kid. Hospitals are scary places to be, everything is uncertain and it’s hard to know what exactly is going on because usually everyone who comes into her room is talking about her, but not actually talking to her, making for a very lonely day. And not having her dad with her today can only be making it worse.

Louis picks up the closest book, flipping through the colorless pages before deciding on one. “How about we do this one together?”

Avery happily beams that signature heart stopping smile, precious dimples digging deep against her small cheeks as her whole face lights up.

And so they color and they laugh and they start to get to know each other a bit better. Well, Avery does most of the talking, she’s got a real mouth on her, just like her mother. Avery tells Louis all about the plights of second grade, riddling off facts about her favorite subjects and giving Louis a complete synopsis on each one of her classmates at school. But she only has the nicest things to say about everyone and it seems as though she’s somehow made friends with the entire school, despite having just started there this school year. Louis isn’t really surprised though, Avery’s such a genuinely sweet and charismatic girl, it’s no wonder everyone already loves her.

Louis listens intently to all her many stories and he dutifully answers all her many random questions that pop into her head from time to time. “ _If animals just started talking one day, which ones do you think would be the nicest and which ones do you think would be grumpy meanies?”_ Or “ _Why are fun sized candies called fun sized when they’re really tiny? It would be way more fun if they were huge or something, don’t you think so, Louis?”_ Or the one that really made Louis laugh because who thinks of these things: _“On the whole entire earth, do you think there’s more leaves or more blades of grass? Or maybe it’s a tie? I think it’s a tie.”_

The sheer oddity and utter randomness of her questions instantly reminds Louis of Harry and all his quirkiness and Louis thinks the two of them must have so much fun together.

Louis’ pager goes off while they are working on coloring in their fourth picture together, the time having flown by without him realizing it.

“Why does it go off randomly like that?” Avery asks curiously. “What does it mean?”

“It means that somewhere in this hospital, someone needs me right now.” Louis tells her as he slides off the bed to his feet, stretching a bit.

“Ooh, you’re a super hero.” She beams up at him.

Louis chuckles, shaking his head. “Not quite.”

“Well you are to me.” Avery decides, lips still pulled to a smile.

Louis smiles back softly. “Promise you’ll finish our last picture, Aves?”

“Of course!”

“Ok good, I wanna see it later when it’s all done.” Louis tells her seriously as he moves towards the doorway.

“Wait, Louis?” Avery sits up, calling his name tentatively.

“Yes, love.” Louis pauses, looking over his shoulder.

“Thank you for keeping me company today.” Avery says appreciatively, grinning.

At the start of the day, Louis vowed that spending time with Avery was the one thing he wasn’t going to do. But even still, now that he’s gotten to know her a bit, gotten to see just how lovely she is, Louis doesn’t regret a single thing.

“Anytime, Aves.”

||✚||

 

Harry rushes straight from work back to the hospital, wanting nothing more than to be with his daughter. She’s been running through his thoughts all day and he could hardly focus on anything but how Avery might be doing. At least Harry can take some comfort in knowing that she’s not completely alone because Jesse promised to stay with her until Harry got back.

“Avie, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Harry apologizes instantly, as he hurries into Avery’s room to find her all by herself. He frowns, looking around the room in disappointed confusion. “Where is Jesse?”

“Not here.” Avery shrugs indifferently, hardly lifting her head from the tray table she’s coloring on.

“Oh baby, were you all by yourself all day?” Harry worries, filling with a guilt he can’t control as he crosses the spans of the room to sit down next to her. He wraps an arm around her small frame, kissing the top of her head. “I’m really sorry, Munchie. I wanted to be here.”

Harry couldn’t blow off his huge client two days in a row and although he’s putting in a leave request with Adam, he isn’t in a place financially where he can just stop working all together and stay by his daughter’s side. Harry hates that he hasn’t been here with her. He absolutely hates it. But he _has_ to work. He is her only parent and she relies on him, but it’s so hard to be everything at once. Provider, caretaker, father, the list goes on.

It’s a bit easier when she’s at school, that way he’s not missing out on anything while he works. Harry only works so hard because he wants to be able to provide for his daughter. He wants to be able give her everything she ever wanted. Avery doesn’t have a mother and that already comes with enough hardship; Harry just wants her to be happy.

Harry makes good money now, but with the house he just bought and the tuition for the private school Avery loves and now with all her medical bills, he can’t stop putting in the hours. Insurance only covers so much and after her surgery, she’s still going to need rounds of treatments and medications. Even though all he wants is to be with her, Harry knows something has to be sacrificed, so he can take care of her.

“It’s not your fault, Daddy.” Avery tells him understandingly, hugging his side with both of her arms. “And I wasn’t by myself. Louis kept me company.”

“Louis? You mean, Dr. Tomlinson?” Harry corrects her.

“He _said_ I can call him Louis, Daddy.” Avery explains adamantly, looking up at him. “We’re friends now!”

Harry raises his eyebrows in surprise. Obviously he missed a lot today. “Friends?”

“Mhmm. And we had lots and lots of fun together. See, look! We made this and this and this.” She proudly spreads out the beautifully colored lined images for Harry to see.

“Oh wow, they’re gorgeous, Avie!” Harry awes as he looks over them. “You did such a good job, Munch.”

“Thank you! Louis colored in all the teeny tiny parts because he has very steady hands and he didn’t mess up or go outside the lines.” Avery chatters, talking animatedly with her hands as she always does when she’s excited. “Even though he said he really likes coloring outside the lines, but I said he’d ruin the whole picture if he did that, so he promised he wouldn’t. And this one is his favorite because Louis said it reminds him of his dog.” Avery shows him a colored in picture of a big eyed puppy that looks a lot like a certain English Springer Spaniel mix. “And you’ll never guess what his dog’s name is!”

Oh, Harry is pretty sure he could guess. “What is it?”

“Benedict!” Avery tells him, smiling wide. “Isn’t that a funny name for a dog?”

“Yeah, I guess it is…” Harry agrees slowly, trying not to think about it too hard. “Well I’m glad you had fun today, Avie.”

“Me too.” Avery smiles happily. But her smile turns questioning as she tilts her head at him curiously. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, Munchie?”

“Today Louis told me that he knew you a long, long time time ago...”

“Did he?”

“Yes and he said he knew me too.” Avery frowns, expression riddled with confusion. “If that’s true…why haven’t I ever seen him? Why aren’t you friends anymore?”

Harry has been dreading this question with every cell in his body. He hoped that maybe he could skirt around it, that by some small miracle the past would stay in its rightful place—in the _past_. But of course, that is never the case.

He hasn’t truly had a real conversation with Louis since Avery was diagnosed, sticking only to speaking about her treatment and medical plans. Truthfully, Harry doesn’t know what to say to Louis after all these years. There is a whole world between them now. He was relieved when Louis cut him off in the elevator, not because he didn’t want to get to know Louis again and try to smooth things over, but because he didn’t know what to say or how to approach this delicate situation.

Harry clears his throat, not meeting her eyes. “Well uh…sometimes things happen, Avie and…um...”

“Like what? What could happen that would make you not want to be friends with Louis anymore?” Avery persists. “He is really nice, Daddy. And he’s so funny…I like him.”

“Yes, he is...” Harry answers briefly, lowering his head.

_i’ll always be glad i met you_

“I can’t imagine being friends with Louis and then not anymore. I’d be sad.” Avery continues.

Harry just nods slowly, feeling a familiar heaviness slink over his shoulders. Leaving Louis is something Harry has to try hard not to think about. He doesn’t talk about it, he doesn’t go anywhere near that entire time period in his mind. Harry knows he was never meant to stay with Louis, it was never meant to be a permanent situation and eventually he overstayed his welcome. He didn’t want to hold Louis back, he didn’t want—well, it doesn’t matter what he wanted now, it’s in the past.

“Then why aren’t you friends?” Avery presses again.

It’s such an innocent question, asked so easily. But the answer isn’t so easily given, the answer isn’t nearly as innocent. It’s a dark stain, a deep, poorly healed scar that would easily bleed again if aggravated.

Harry lifts his head and forces himself to smile at his daughter, tracing the side of her face. “You’re a very curious little Aviebug, but some things don’t always have an answer, baby.”

“Why not?” Avery wonders further. She can be so persistent and stubborn sometimes and it’s not lost on Harry where she got that from.

“They just don’t, Avery.” Harry answers in a way that is meant to end this conversation for good. “You know what, how about we finish coloring, ok?”

“Ok.” Avery nods, dropping the topic for now and returning her attention to her open coloring book.

Harry colors with her for an hour, but Avery falls asleep soon after, her pre-op and pain medication making her drowsy. Harry stays in the room with her, content to sit and watch her sleep from the chair next to her bed.

Jesse comes back to the hospital around six, dutifully bringing his fiancé dinner and Harry steps out into the hallway to meet him.

Harry forgoes greeting him properly, far more interested in where Jesse has been and why he left Avery to fend for herself all day. “Jes, why did you leave Avery alone today?”

“And hello to you to, babe.” Jesse kisses him lightly, knowingly avoiding the question.

“I’m serious, Jesse.” Harry looks at him expectantly. “You told me that you were free today and that you could stay with her until I got back.”

“Yes and I absolutely meant that when I said it, but I had no other choice—my office called and I couldn’t stay. I just started working with this firm, it’s not like I have much leeway.” Jesse explains. “And I mean, it’s also not like I left her completely alone, she’s in a building full of doctors. She was fine.”

“She’s a _child_ , Jes. She’s scared enough as it is and she should at least be able to have a familiar face with her to make her feel better. I just…” Harry sighs, dragging both hands through his hair.

“Hey look Harry, I’m really sorry. You’re right, I wasn’t thinking.” Jesse apologizes, pulling Harry into a hug that he desperately needs. “I shouldn’t have left her, especially not without letting you know. I’m sorry, babe. Don’t be mad at me.”

Harry nuzzles his head down, sighing heavily. “I’m not mad…I just…I hate that I wasn’t here. I hate that I wasn’t with her today. I wish I never had to leave her…”

“You’re doing the best you can, Harry.” Jesse says, rubbing his back. “That’s all you can do.”

Harry nods slowly, but truly he feels like bursting into exhausted tears because his best isn’t always good enough. And no matter what he does, he always feels like he isn’t doing enough for his daughter. But Harry has no earthly clue how to make it better all on his own.

He has Jesse, which helps of course, but there are times when Harry would rather not admit his own defeat. Ever since his sister died, Harry hardly ever lets his walls down for anyone, not even his fiancé. Harry always maintains the image that he’s doing ok, that his life is going according to plan and everything is fine and dandy.

But it almost never really is.

 

||✚||

 

“So you really don’t want me to cut my hair?” Harry asks Avery. They’ve been going back and forth about this since she woke up from her nap. He was 100% serious when he told her he would shave it off the first time; he was thinking about cutting and donating his hair anyway.

Since Avery’s surgery is only minimally invasive, isolated to one section of her brain, she doesn’t have to shave her entire head, only a small portion. But the chemotherapy will eventually make her hair thin and fall out, so she decided that she wants all of her long, chocolate colored hair cut while it’s still healthy so she can donate it to another little girl who needs it. It was one of the kindest things Harry has ever heard and he can’t say enough how incredibly proud he is of his daughter.

“I don’t.” Jesse comments, running his fingers through Harry’s curls. “I love your hair.”

Harry leans back into his touch, smiling. “Thanks, Jes.”

Jesse slips his hand from Harry’s lengthy hair to look down at his buzzing phone. “Oh, I gotta take this. I’ll be right outside.” He kisses Harry’s forehead before hurriedly exiting the room, leaving just Harry and Avery to themselves.

Harry hops out of the chair he was sitting in and curls himself into the hospital bed with his daughter. Avery repositions herself in his lap, facing him. “So here’s what we’ll do Munchie, I’ll shave my head with you and we’ll be twins. We can wear headscarves together and—”

“Daddy, I told you…you can’t be bald.” Avery shakes her head repeatedly, disapproving of the whole idea. “Your head is too big.”

Harry gasps in surprise, jaw dropping as he laughs. “Avery Elliot Styles!”

Avery giggles, holding his face with both of her small hands. “It’s true and you know it.”

Harry grins. “Ok fine…I’ll leave an inch.”

“Four inches.” Avery argues, staring him right in the eye.

“Two.” Harry counters.

Avery narrows her eyes, leaning closer. “Three.”

“Two.” Harry repeats.

“Two and a half.” Avery negotiates, gaze still scarily stern, but impossibly endearing.

“Deal.” Harry smiles, he’s raising a very strong willed, opinionated young lady. “I’ll keep two and half inches and the rest I’ll give to you.”

“No.” Avery defiantly shakes her head once.

Harry frowns, obviously missing something. “No?”

“If you’re going to cut it, then I want you to donate it, but not to me.” Avery decides.

“What? Avery—”

“No Daddy, I don’t want it.” Avery refuses. “I want you to donate your hair too and give it to some other sick little girl who really needs it. We could help two people instead of just one.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Harry tilts his head at her, never failing to be touched by how genuinely _good_ she is. Instead of choosing to help herself, Avery would rather help someone she doesn’t know, who’s facing the same scary thing she is, feel a little better.

“I don’t need it, Daddy.” Avery tells him confidently. “I’ll be ok because I have you and your headscarves and I know you’ll still kiss my head and tell me I’m beautiful everyday, even though I don’t have my hair anymore.”

“You’re so beautiful, Avie.” Harry hugs her close, pressing kisses to her head. “Inside and out, you’re beautiful.”

 

||☤||

 

Louis is standing at the nurses’ station, signing off on some overdue charts and post-op notes from the day. Really, he needs to go home and get some rest, he hadn’t meant to stay at work this long. Avery’s surgery is scheduled for tomorrow—well actually, since it’s already nearing one in the morning, it’d be more accurate to say that her surgery is later today. Regardless, the fact remains that Louis needs to go home and sleep for what little time he still can.

“Dr. Tomlinson?” A nurse calls from behind the counter.

“Yes?” Louis answers distractedly through a yawn, not lifting his head as he continues to pencil in his final notes, trying to finish up.

“Patient in 5701 is asking for you.”

Louis snaps his head up, instantly recognizing the room number as he knows it by heart. “Is she ok? Is she in pain?” He sets down his charting tablet, closing his notebook without even thinking. He is already walking away from the station towards the room when the nurse answers him.

“Not that I’m aware of, Doctor. She’s just been asking for you specifically.”

“Ok, thank you.” Louis calls behind him, fast walking down the hall. The door to 5701 is already open, so he pokes his head into the room.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, Louis.” Avery apologizes profusely the second she sees him. “I don’t mean to bother you, I feel like I’m always stealing your time and I know you’re probably very, very busy with tons and tons of sick people to help but…”

“Avery, what’s wrong, love?” Louis asks gently as he steps fully into the room and walks over to the side of her bed, doing a quick review of the monitors. “You aren’t in any pain are you? Do you have another headache?”

“No, no, I’m ok.” Avery lowers her head, small hands wrung together in her lap. She glances over at Harry fast asleep in the chair next to her bed. “He’s tired. He was tired before I got sick and now...he’s so worried and he doesn’t sleep much anymore and he’s finally asleep and I didn’t want to bother him…but I…I just…”

Louis looks over at Harry briefly, and he looks exhausted even as he sleeps, lines of worry deeply furrow his brow. Louis turns his attention back to Avery, waiting for her to finish her thought. “You just what, Aves?”

“I feel scared.” Avery admits quietly, her eyes are wide and so, so clear as she gazes up at him.

Louis nods in understanding. Anyone would feel scared in a situation like this and Louis can’t help but admire how incredibly brave she’s been thus far. She’s taken everything like a trooper and not complained a single time since she’s been here.

Louis bends down a little to meet her eye level. “You know what I do when I feel scared?”

“What?” Avery asks through a whisper, eyes wide with curiosity.

Louis straightens up and walks back over to the door, peeking out the hallway, before darting out into the hallway to steal an abandoned wheelchair.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UMDTFf6pODE&index=1&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVviZPHRturfJllgd_ZdLASo&t=0s)

“How about we go on a little adventure and I’ll show you?” Louis offers as he comes back in the room, a bit of a mischief in his eye.

Avery matches Louis’ smile, nodding her head silently.

Louis carefully picks up her small body and places her gently in the chair, draping Avery’s shoulders and legs with her favorite blanket from home so she doesn’t get cold. It’s fuzzy and yellow and covered in cute, animated ladybugs that Avery loves. Louis properly secures all the vital wires and transfers her IV tubes to the pole attached to the wheelchair. 

Louis leans down to whisper. “Ready?”

“I’m ready!” She whispers back, twisting around a bit to peek up at him.

“Ok, off we go!” Louis announces excitedly, although quietly, as not to wake up Harry. He begins to roll the chair out of the room and down the hallway, navigating to the elevator. They ride the lift all the way to the very top, leading out to the helicopter pad on the roof. Louis swipes his badge to unlock the restricted access door, pushing Avery out into the open Seattle air.

The November chill rushes around them, the winds carrying on a bit stronger at the higher altitude. The life of the city can be heard at a distance, the thrum of bustling noise from the metropolitan area surrounding the hospital echoes throughout the air. But yet, somehow it’s still perfectly serene.

“You alright?” Louis walks around the stationary chair and kneels in front of Avery, adjusting her blanket to snuggle the material around her small body, making sure she’s completely covered up. “Are you cold?”

Avery shakes her head, the only part of her that’s even visible after being meticulously swaddled by Louis. “Nope, I’m doing good.”

“Ok, let me know if you feel lightheaded or cold or anything.” Louis says as he stands back to his full height.

Avery nods, glancing around the rooftop. “Louis, are we allowed to be up here?”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Louis smiles mischievously, giving her a wink and Avery just giggles.

They exist in silence for awhile, allowing the soft ambience in the air and the mild glow of the moon to engulf them. It’s sometimes hard to see the stars when the stark lights of the city seem to shine brighter, but tonight, from up high on the roof, Louis can spot a few of them peering through the night’s sky.

“When I get scared about something, I like to come up here.” Louis starts slowly, staring out at the gorgeous Seattle skyline. “You see up here…it’s like nothing can hurt you, no one can touch you and no one can bring you down. You’re on top of the world. I come up here and I shout out my fears—whatever they are. I yell them out into the open so that they don’t have power over me anymore.” He explains, and it’s odd because he’s never told anyone about this or brought anyone up here. But Avery seems like she needs it just as much as he does. “Looking out over all of this…I don’t know, it’s like my fears don’t feel as big anymore…and it always makes me feel a bit more brave somehow.”

Avery peeks up at him quietly, before settling her gaze back out over the city in consideration.

Over the years, Louis has accumulated a lot of shit to scream about and since he can’t cry—refuses to ever cry again, he screams. He shouts and he yells and he _screams_. And honestly nothing compares to the release and the rush of finally getting it all out in the open, cleansing himself of all the things that hurt him more than his words could ever properly say.

“Since you’re new at all this, I’ll go first.” Louis offers. “Sometimes, if I’m really scared, I start off with little fears that don’t actually scare me as much and build myself up. But no matter how hard it is to face my real fears at first, I always feel better after I do.” 

“Really?” Avery questions hopefully, although slightly doubtful.

“Really.” Louis nods in genuine confirmation. “Ok so…here I go…”

Louis clears his throat dramatically, shaking himself out and stretching as though he’s about to go on some sort of marathon. And of course Avery giggles at how ridiculous he’s being, so naturally Louis gives her another wink, grinning.

“I’m scared of needles!” Louis yells out into the night at the top of his lungs before looking down at her.

“Louis that’s cheating, we already worked on that one.” Avery frowns, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Oh you’re quite right, yeah.” Louis chuckles as he nods slowly. “You’re just too smart.”

Avery grins knowingly and this time it’s her who winks at him.

Louis knows he doesn’t have to fully reveal his true fears; Avery wouldn’t know the difference anyway because she doesn’t know him all that well. But for some reason, he decides to do it anyway, making himself a bit more vulnerable.

He takes in a real breath this time, closing his eyes as he lets himself identify his darkest edges. “I’m…I’m scared of getting hurt again…I’m scared that my feelings will catch up to me…” Louis admits truthfully, shouting out the words as best he can. “I’m scared of being alone…”

Avery reaches over and gently slides her hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not.”

Louis holds her hand tighter, never wanting to let it go. And that, in itself, sums up his greatest fears in one swoop. How can it be that in approximately two days Louis has once again grown to love this little girl with his whole heart? Maybe because no matter how much it hurts, you never really stop loving someone, even after they’re gone.

He takes another quiet moment to fully collect himself and settle his breath before opening his eyes and bending down to her level. “Ok, it’s your turn. Are you ready, love?”

Avery nods silently as she holds on to Louis’ hand. She looks nervous, but her golden eyes express a sincere trust for him, like she knows Louis would never do anything to hurt her.

“I’m scared of spiders…” Avery announces hardly a shout—hardly a whisper.

“Oh, you can do better than that, Aves.” Louis encourages gently, fingers still locked together. He runs his thumb over her hand reassuringly. “Just let it all out. I promise the louder you shout, the better you’ll feel.”

Avery closes her eyes just as Louis did earlier, inhaling deeply a few times to herself. It’s a hard thing to do, Louis knows from experience; it’s never easy to openly admit what scares you the most, not to yourself and certainly not to someone else. “I’m afraid that my Daddy won’t have anyone left if I die…” She forces herself to shout, her eyes squeezed shut even tighter than before. “I’m scared he won’t be ok...”

The echo of her voice is slowly absorbed by the wind, words carried off in the breeze. Louis gazes at the profile of her face, feeling so much for her. She’s got such a big heart, an incredibly brave, beautiful heart. She’s just a child, an innocent child facing cancer, brain cancer at that. She’s got a surgery to cope with and rounds of treatments after that and yet her fears are not even for herself. They’re for her father.

“How do you feel?” Louis wonders softly after a few quiet beats.

“Better.” Avery nods slowly, seeming to assess her feelings as she opens her eyes again. “A lot better actually.”

Louis’ face spreads into a smile. “See, I told you. It works every time.”

Avery turns her her head towards him. “You know a lot of things, Louis.”

“Not that many things, I’m afraid.” Louis laughs a bit as he rights himself. “We should probably get you back before someone calls a Code Purple or something.”

“What’s a Code Purple?” Avery wonders as Louis starts to wheel her chair towards the door.

“A missing child alert.”

Avery laughs a little at that, tilting her head backwards to look up at him. “But you’re my doctor, I’m safer with you than with anyone else.”

“That may be true, but you going missing is still ground for alarm.” Louis explains. “I could get in serious trouble with the nurses.”

“All the nurses love you, I don’t think you’d get in trouble.” Avery denies confidently.

“Not true.” Louis frowns with a shake of his fringe.

“Mhmm.” Avery nods seriously. “I sat here all day, I’ve heard them, they love you. And they think you’re cute.”

“Well then we’ve got to get you back in one piece so I don’t lose my reputation.” Louis teases, smiling. “I’ve _always_ wanted to be cute.”

Avery giggles happily and it’s nice to see her back to her usual smiling self. Louis starts to push her towards the roof door, until Avery speaks up again. “Louis, thank you for sharing your special place with me. I really do feel a lot better.”

Louis places a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Of course, Aves. Of course. There is no one I’d rather share it with.”

And that is the truth, Louis always felt a special connection with Avery when she was a baby and it seems that despite the horrible distance between them for so many years, that connection was never fully severed.

Louis pushes Avery through the deserted hospital halls back to the surgical floor. But as they approach her room, it seems Louis was right about people becoming worried over her undisclosed whereabouts. Not so much the nurses though, mainly Harry.

“ _Avery_! Where were you, baby?” Harry rushes frantically towards her, kneeling down in front of Avery’s chair. “I…I nearly had a panic attack—I woke up and you were…I mean y-you weren’t…”

Louis opens his mouth, ready to take full responsibility for what happened until the little girl in the wheel chair beats him to it.

“I just wanted some fresh air, Daddy.” Avery tells her father gently. “Louis offered to take me, I’m ok. I’m fine.”

Harry leans in to embrace Avery in an impossibly tight hug and Louis can see the relief physically flooding his features as he closes his eyes. “You’re ok…”

Avery squeezes him back, whispering against his cheek. “We’re ok, Daddy. We’re ok.” She soothes, arms wrapped around Harry’s neck. “I’m right here.”

Who knows what had gone through Harry’s head when he woke up to find his daughter missing from her bed. Considering what he bore witness to in the past, his panicked, completely unnerved reaction only makes sense.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Louis offers at a distance, not trying to intrude on their moment. “It was completely my fault—I didn’t mean to worry you. I would have asked, but…you were asleep and—” 

Harry stands to his full height again, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine Louis—thank you for taking her. I just overreacted is all.”

“I understand.” Louis says simply, moving to help get Avery settled back into her bed. He reconnects the heart monitor and reattaches a pulse oximeter to her index finger, before rehanging her IV fluids. And when he’s all done, Louis gives Avery a little smile, waving at her silently before he heads for the door.

“Hey Louis?” Harry calls him by his first name and it instantly sparks something awful in Louis’ heart. Hearing Harry simply call his name with such ease and familiarity, practically pins Louis against the wall. The stance of his frame is open and approachable as he walks towards Louis by the door. “Do you think that maybe we—”

“I actually have to go um check on my post-op patients from earlier today—sorry.” Louis brushes him off with a lie, quickly turning on his heel before Harry can say anything further. He doesn’t want to hear what Harry has to say and he doesn’t want to open himself up to the possibility of getting to know Harry in the slightest.

Louis is here for Avery and _only_ Avery. He is already too involved with her as it is, growing more attached to her with each passing moment and he can’t allow himself to get attached to Harry again too. He can’t.

Because Louis knows, more than he knows anything else, that he wouldn’t survive it.

 


	4. four.

_feel it tremble_.

||☤||

Avery’s surgery goes without a single hitch. It was a lengthy procedure, just over eleven hours long, but it went without a single complication, which is as good as it gets when it comes to brain surgery.

Surprisingly, Louis wasn’t as nervous as he thought he’d be going into it. Once he got into the O.R., his mind worked in accordance with his steady hands, performing the tumor resection just as he has dozens of times before.

Harry was though, he was a total nervous mess from the moment Louis and Charlie came to prep Avery for surgery. Avery asked Louis to do the honors of completely shaving her head after it’d already been cut short for donation and Louis repeatedly told her how badass and bloody brave she looked—except he obviously didn’t use those exact words. But he just wanted to make sure she felt as fearless and brave and supported as possible before her surgery. And Harry clearly felt the same way because he cut his gorgeous long hair short and donated it along with her, standing in solidarity with his daughter.

Avery teased him relentlessly about his haircut, but Harry didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, more so happy that Avery was still in such good spirits before the procedure. But despite Avery’s positivity, Louis could tell that Harry was still battling overwhelming amounts of anxiety, biting his nails and pacing the entire time Avery was being prepped.

So during the procedure Louis made sure to send Charlie out to give Harry and Jesse updates every single hour, hoping that it would ease Harry’s rising fears. But Harry didn’t actually take a breath of relief until the surgery was over and Louis came out to tell him that everything had gone smoothly.

Harry thanked Louis incessantly, probably saying the most he’s ever said to Louis in all this time, even though his entire speech was basically composed of the same two words said all types of ways. Harry even followed up his repeated thank you’s with an appreciative hug—or he tried to. But Louis did not want to be reminded of what it felt like to be wrapped in Harry’s arms, fearing that he wouldn’t know how to let go, so Louis offered a distant handshake instead.

That night, Louis stayed at the hospital to monitor Avery’s levels overnight just to be safe. He could have made Charlie or any other intern do it, but Louis wanted to be there for Avery so he stayed. And by the next morning, Avery was awake once again, groggy and tired, but well on her way to recovery.

“Dr. Wesley, please present the case.” Louis requests during Avery’s first post-op review since she woke up.

Harry sits in the chair by her bed, looking utterly exhausted, yet there are clear signs of relief flooding his features. Louis knows Harry didn’t sleep much last night, spending most of the night pacing the empty halls or simply sitting quietly by Avery’s side waiting for her to wake up. Louis carefully avoided speaking to him though, making sure to do his hourly vitals check whenever Harry wasn’t in the room.

Charlie clears her throat before speaking. “Avery Styles, eight years old, post-op craniotomy tumor resection. Dr. Tomlinson was able to remove the mass from Avery’s brain successfully, achieving clean margins as evidenced by her most recent scans taken this morning. She was closely monitored through the night and showed no signs of complications. All cognitive functions are normal, audiovisual complexes are intact as well as motor and speech capacities.”

“Fantastic. And how do we proceed from here?” Louis asks next, watching Charlie.

“Chemotherapy.” Charlie promptly responds. “Avery will need to be monitored through biweekly checkups during the extent of her methotrexate treatment as a precaution.”

“Very good.” Louis nods before turning to smile at Avery. “And how are you feeling today Aves, my bravest patient ever?” He sits on the bed next to her, checking the thick bandage around her head.

“I’m good.” She answers quietly, holding on to her father’s hand weakly on her opposite side. “My head feels a little weird, but…I’m ok.”

“Any pain?” 

“Nope...” Avery smiles as best she can at him, although she’s clearly drained. “No pain.”

“Good.” Louis smiles back, before turning back to Charlie. “Dr. Wesley, monitor her morphine drip and do a full neural exam every two hours for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, sir.” Charlie nods, noting Avery’s chart.

“Ok Aves, I’ll see you later ok?” Louis says to Avery, standing from the bed. “You’re doing so great, I’m so proud of you. Get some rest.”

“Bye Louis…” Avery whispers, heavy lids already weighing her eyes closed.

“Bye love.” Louis waves his fingers, grinning one last time before heading out of the room. But he doesn’t get very far before he hears his name being called from the same direction he just left.

“Louis?”

Louis pauses, but doesn’t immediately turn around because of course he recognizes the voice and of course he doesn’t want to speak to the person who owns it.

“Louis? Come on, are you really going to keep ignoring me?” Harry wonders and his voice is softer than usual, or maybe that’s only in Louis’ head.

“What? I’m not?” Louis gradually turns around, feigning innocence as he pulls a frown. “Why would I ignore you?”

“Louis.” Harry says flatly, seeing right through him like he always does— _did_. “I mean, you can’t keep this up forever.”

 _yes, i can_...

Louis looks at Harry blankly, having nothing at all to say to him. Harry is wrong, Louis can and he will continue to avoid him as much as humanly possible. Louis will bend over backwards and jump through every fucking hoop if it means he has a chance at sparing himself any potential heartache.

“Can I at least take you out to dinner?” Harry continues after a beat, not letting the conversation die out as he maintains eye contact. “As a thank you. You know, for everything you’ve done for Avery.”

“No need to thank me, Harry. I’m just doing my job.” Louis replies curtly, starting to move backwards. “A verbal thank you is thanks enough.”

“Yeah, I know but—well it would give us a chance to…maybe...catch up? I don’t know? I just…” Harry’s voice drops off as he gazes at Louis openly, concealed emotions peeking through. It’s a look that expresses far too much, it feels heavy and intimate, laden with years of pent up feelings that have no business out in the open and it makes Louis’ skin burn.

“You’re engaged, Harry.” Louis reminds rather flatly. It comes out a little harsher than he meant it, but it’s true. Harry is engaged, that’s just a fact. Anything that went on or didn’t go on in the past, needs to remain in the past. Louis is not ready to wrestle those demons. Before Harry showed up again, Louis was just starting to feel marginally _ok_. He was just starting to feel like he had somewhat of a handle on his emotions and now Harry is threatening to unravel all of that with just one charged look.

“I know that.” Harry nods his head as he awkwardly scratches at the back of his neck. There’s a conflict oscillating in his tone that Louis doesn’t quite know what to make of. “But that doesn’t mean—I don’t know? That we can’t be friends? You can’t tell me that you hate me that much.”

_i don’t want to be friends with you_

“I—I don’t hate you...I’ve got a lot of patients to see and post-op notes to write and…uh…work—I just have a lot of work to do.” Louis trips over his words, scrambling to make his excuse sound more legitimate than it actually is. Of course he has work to do, he always does, but Louis could fit Harry into his schedule if he really wanted to.

“I get it.” Harry nods once with what looks to be genuine disappointment. “It’s fine…just—forget I asked.”

And now why does Louis feel guilty? He owes Harry nothing. Not a damn thing. He hasn’t forgotten how their twisted relationship ended. The fact of the matter is: Harry left him. No one forced him to go, no one held a gun to his head. Harry left him all on his own volition and essentially disappeared off the face of the earth. And Louis can’t begin to pretend that it didn’t fuck him up in more ways than one.

But maybe this could be the chance to finally get the closure Louis is rightfully entitled to. Maybe he can finally have a real chance at moving on from this entirely, putting to rest any lingering feelings or animosity between them.

“But erm...” Louis starts up suddenly, causing Harry to pause before walking away. “I guess... I might be able to squeeze in coffee?”

Harry smiles, eyes brightening back up and for a moment he looks so much like how he did on the grassy clearing in the middle of the woods. Bright eyes, soft face, and the sweetest dimples. “Yeah, coffee sounds great.”

“Ok…um there’s a new little cafe across the street with the best scones in town.” Louis offers. “I’m free around two this afternoon, if that works for you...”

“Ok yeah, that works.” Harry agrees, nodding easily.

“Ok…” Louis echos again, feeling an anxious thrum in the pit of his stomach.

Coffee is good and safe. It’s unattached and uncommitted—perfectly casual. A normal, easy coffee with an old friend—except Harry isn’t exactly an old friend and this probably won’t be normal or anywhere near easy. But it’s _just_ coffee. And nothing bad can come out of coffee, right? _Right_?

To be honest, at this point of his life, Louis is already expecting to be proven wrong.

 

||☤||

 

“You look great by the way.”

His words immediately catch Louis off guard. They’ve just settled down at small table near the back of the café, having each ordered a hot drink and a baked good. Louis decided to forgo the coffee this time in favor of hot tea and a blueberry scone. Harry chose a vanilla latte and then asked Louis to pick a scone flavor for him. Something that also caught Louis completely off guard because it’s something Harry would have done years ago.

Harry was always asking Louis to pick something out for him, but then he’d always end up stealing Louis’ instead. Eventually Louis would end up ordering something he knew Harry would like for himself, anticipating that Harry would steal it. And then Louis would order what he really wanted for Harry, knowing that Harry was never going to eat it anyway. It was complicated, but it was them.

But it’s not them anymore, that’s for sure. And Louis gets that Harry is obviously trying to be friendly and everything, but they literally just got here for fucks sake, so can he not? It’s awkward enough as it is.

“I mean uh since I last saw you um…well—you always look great.” Harry continues, gaze purposely trained down on his chocolate chip scone as he talks.

“Yeah, um...so do you.” Louis offers back cautiously. It’s weird that they are doing this now. It’s fucking weird. They’ve been around each other, avoiding each other's orbits all week long. And this is the first time they’ve actually talked to each other as normal adults. Louis can admit that it feels kind of nice. Familiar even. But still weird. “I guess you’re not just hair.”

Harry laughs a little, dimples poking out as he touches a hand to his freshly cut locks. “I was scared all my charm would be lost without it, but Avery says I’m still cute.” He shrugs jokingly. “And her opinion is the only one that matters.”

“She’s adorable…you’re doing such a good job with her.” Louis offers lightly as he lifts his cup of tea.

Harry considers him for a moment as though gauging Louis’ statement internally.

“I don’t mean that in a backhanded kind of way.” Louis clarifies before Harry even replies. “I’m serious—she’s a really lovely girl.”

“I don’t know how much of that is actually because of me, but…I love her and she really is quite lovely. That’s my little Munchie.” Harry smiles fondly and his dimples only get deeper as he speaks of his daughter. His shortened curls flop adorably over his face, even though he keeps running has hands through them out of habit, trying to get them to stay in place like they used to.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4hDvLgFIuR8&index=2&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVviZPHRturfJllgd_ZdLASo&t=0s)

And Louis can’t seem to tear his eyes away, finding himself as easily enraptured by him as he was all those years ago. But he shouldn’t be—he can’t be. It’s so odd how old patterns and buried thoughts can creep back so easily into the mind, as though they never left. It’s even more odd how easy it can be to alight a distant memory or kindle a warm feeling about someplace or something or… _someone_ , until utterly consuming all the pathways of the brain like wildfire.

_harry is with jesse, harry is with jesse, harry is with jesse_

God—and it’s so frustrating because the last thing Louis wants to do is open his mind up to even the slightest possibility of a friendly relationship with Harry. Because all that would really serve to do is remind his heart of all that could have been between them if things had been different, if life had gone right for once.

Louis came here for closure and not a thing more. So he chooses to repeat that same little four-word mantra in his head, screaming it in his mind till it reverberates in his ears and overshadows any fond, warm memories of the two of them he has left.

It’s fucking ridiculous that Louis needs a mantra in the first place—why can’t he just move the fuck on like any other heartbroken person? Why can’t he be genuinely happy for Harry and Jesse and not have to fake it all the time? Sure, they have a history—a heavy, complicated history, and yeah Louis still finds Harry just as physically attractive or whatever, but Louis really thought that he’d done a pretty decent job of laying these old feelings to rest. He thought that he killed them off years ago, but how can that remain to be true if after only ten minutes of interacting with Harry, he’s already being propelled right back.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask but…how’s Benedict?” Harry redirects the conversation, stirring his vanilla latte with a spoon.

“Oh um Benny, right yeah, he’s good. Yeah. Still such a cuddler. Um…he’s a bit slower now, old age I suppose.” Louis smiles, fidgeting with his own mug of hot tea. “But he still likes a good run.”

“Aww.” Harry smiles slowly, entire face going soft. “He’s such a good dog. I miss him—” He catches his words, biting his lips awkwardly.

_you wouldn’t have to miss him if you never left_

“Yeah…” Louis breaks eye contact and focuses his attention completely on his tea, taking a generous sip. This whole encounter is moving from the realm of weird into downright uncomfortable.

A tense silence falls over them both and it’s painfully obvious that they are both thinking about the same thing. This was a horrible fucking idea; Louis should have never agreed to this in the first place. Some things never need to be revisited and this is one of them.

“So! Eh…you’re a pretty big deal around here.” Harry pipes up again with a new chipper to his tone, trying to bring the mood back to positive for god only knows what reason. Louis is beyond ready to leave, twitching to make up an excuse and bolt out of here.

“Well, you stay anywhere long enough and that’s what tends to happen.” Louis shrugs, picking at his blueberry scone that he’s not even hungry for.

“Oh, don’t be humble. I know you worked your ass off to get here. The youngest Head of Neurosurgery Seattle has ever seen.” Harry recites, grinning as he leans into the table.

“What? Did you google that?” Louis teases a little, breaking an entire edge off of his scone.

“Maybe.” Harry smiles shyly, meeting Louis’ gaze in a way that feels far too personal. He still has the softest eyes. Eyes that pay attention, that see not just what is apparent on the outside, but what lies beneath. And Louis can’t help but feel naked under his gaze. Exposed. “I always knew you could do it, Lou.” 

_lou._

It sounds so normal and habitual, Louis almost welcomes it. It’s warm and it’s gentle, falling from Harry’s lips as though he still has a reason to say it all the time. It almost makes Louis forget that this isn’t even close to a normal thing for them anymore.

This is _weird_. Horrifically weird, akin to insufferable. They are pretending everything is fine and dandy, faking being civil when the elephant is staring them right in the face. Louis has countless questions he wants to angrily scream across the table until he’s blue in the face. Starting with why the hell did Harry leave? Where did he fuck off to for all this time? And why is he back in the city now? When did he get engaged? When did he find it within himself to move on?

Harry is still looking at Louis with the same soft eyes and Louis can’t even begin to describe how fucking unnerving it all is. And he sure as hell doesn’t have the faintest idea how to react, so Louis ends up settling for a reserved smile, remaining as distant as possible. “What about you? I assume you’re making some kind of living…somewhere…”

“Oh right—well, I don’t know if you remember…but my degree was in—”

“Marketing.” Louis answers for him, the word falling out before he could catch himself.

“Yeah…” Harry smiles slowly in surprise, nodding his head. “So um when I...uh left Seattle—I ended up going into business for a buddy of mine from school who started his own company in L.A. and he brought me on as a marketing consultant. I was there for a bit…which was nice, I liked California—amazing weather, lovely people. But anyway, we just opened a new firm in Seattle a few months back… so here I am again. Never really thought I’d move back here again, but it is what it is, I suppose.”

A few months. Harry has been back for _months_. Louis shouldn’t be surprised, but somehow he is more so unnerved by the whole thing.

“I still have to go to L.A. sometimes here and there, but luckily Jesse is really supportive and he helps out with Avery and everything.” Harry continues, taking a light sip of his latte.

“Yeah, so um…Jesse is...nice…” Louis forces somewhat of a smile. And by nice he means stale as fuck. Louis would rather watch paint dry than talk to that man. “I mean—he seems great…really uh great…”

Harry’s face colors up a bit as he drops his gaze down to his lap. “Yeah, he is great—really great. I didn’t ask him to, but he moved to Seattle just to be with me after he proposed. He’s a really sweet guy…we’re good together.”

“When’s the wedding?” Louis once again forces himself to ask, trying to add a cheerfully interested tone. Not that he cares. He doesn’t care. He still isn’t sure why he’s still here entertaining this. The last thing he wants to do is listen to Harry gush about some man who isn’t him.

“Um…I don’t quite know anymore?” Harry frowns in consideration. “Before...um Avery was diagnosed, we were thinking about early next spring. But I haven’t been doing much planning, so we may have to push it back a bit—but we’re excited regardless.”

“That’s great.” Louis tries again, he’s starting to seriously hate that word. _Great_. “I’m uh…I’m really happy for you. That you...erm—found someone…”

“Well, you did reject me.” Harry jokes—or at least Louis thinks he’s joking. “Remember?”

Is he trying to be funny? How dare Harry make light of that night. How fucking _dare_ he. There were feelings, real feelings. Things probably would have gone so much differently if they had slept together the night Harry came into Louis’ room. But would it have turned out better or just prolonged the enviable? The separation.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” Louis blurts out in offense, failing to sever the tie between his thoughts and his mouth.

“No, I mean—”

“I…I didn’t reject you, Harry. I never wou—is that what you really think?” Louis questions, feeling his skin grow hot as frustration builds up inside him.

Harry looks back at Louis, searching his eyes. “That’s…what happened...”

He can’t be serious. There is no way Harry is being serious right now. He came to Louis in the middle of the night, drunk and crying while repeatedly offering himself to Louis, and Louis chose to console him instead of take advantage of him. Has Harry really erased the truth from his mind so severely that he believes Louis didn’t want him at all? Has he really resorted to lying to himself to mask the pain he must still feel inside? Louis knows how pain can contort the mind, alter the definition of reality so intensely that the real truth seems so abstract and outlandish…but…seriously?

“No, it’s not…I—we were…I just didn’t want to be some sad desperate shag that you’d want to forget in the morning…I wanted to be…” Louis’ voice drops off, catching himself before he admits something he might regret. He isn’t going there today.

“What?” Harry asks after a beat, eyeing him closely in confusion.

Louis looks down and fiddles with his pager, pressing a few alarm buttons to get it to go off manually. He can’t do this anymore. “Um, I gotta go. Patient.” Louis replies briefly, quickly standing to his feet.

Harry frowns, looking up at Louis. “Wait, Loui—”

“I’m sorry, it’s urgent.” Louis lies tersely, just needing to get the fuck out of here. This was such a bad idea and Louis knew that. He knew that going into this. There are things he made himself get over, things he has spent so much time trying to will himself to forget, force it into nonexistence. But unlike Harry, it seems Louis is the only one who truly remembers it accurately. “Um…this was…nice…great catching up…” Louis forces himself to say in farewell, rushing the noncommittal words past his lips and not even bothering to be all that genuine about it. “Good luck with your um…wedding and everything. See you at Avery’s next treatment. Bye.”

Before Harry can get another word in, Louis is making a mad dash for the exit, striding as fast as his legs will carry him. He needs fresh air more than anything right now—more so, Louis needs to get as far away from Harry as possible right now so he can start to breathe again.

“I wanted to be… _more_.” Louis sighs to himself once outside the doors of the cafe, finishing his previously open ended sentence. “So much _more_.”

 

||✚||

 

Harry sits at the empty table, gazing down at Louis’ abandoned tea, quickly going cold. He doesn’t quite know what just happened—he surely hadn’t meant to offend Louis or furthermore cause him to bolt out of the café as though his life vitally depended on it. That was definitely not according to plan.

He was hoping that maybe they could be friends again, or at least somewhat. But it seems like having this meeting only served to make things even worse than before and Harry is still unsure as to why. There was a time when he and Louis were so close, probably the closest Harry has ever been to another person apart from his sister. They were once so at ease and comfortable with each other and now the uneasy, charged strain between them holds them miles apart.

And it seemed like everything was going alright at first, as far as Harry was concerned. He doesn’t know how he’s meant to act around Louis anymore, but the conversation was going as well as could be expected before Harry opened his big mouth and accused Louis of rejecting him. Harry was only trying to be honest, but he meant it lightheartedly, even though he knows as much as Louis that there was nothing lighthearted about it.

It’s hard to remember everything clearly now, his memory is all so foggy and tainted, it hurts to think about for too long, so he continually avoids it. But he remembers Louis rejecting him, he remembers Louis displaying his total disinterest in Harry by not even wanting to kiss him. That night Harry was wasted enough to summon the courage to put his jumbled feelings to good use and climb into Louis’ bed. He hoped that maybe Louis wanted him as much as he did, and his hopes were answered with rejection. He remembers it, he does. Yeah, he was drunk—probably too drunk, but Harry knows that’s what happened. It is—it _has_ to be.

Harry also knows that the way he left Louis was abrupt and he didn’t go about it the right way, but isn’t that what Louis wanted? To have Harry gone and rid himself of that nuisance of a situation so he could finally focus on the reason he’s in Seattle in the first place? All Harry was doing was holding Louis back from his potential and Louis probably couldn’t wait for Harry to take his problems out of his life. He wasn’t good for Louis, he was a distraction that soon turned into a burden and he had no other choice but to leave. It was better for the both of them. They were never meant to last forever.

Nothing is.

 

||☤||

 

The weeks fly by, blurring together as one. Harry brings Avery in twice a week for chemotherapy treatment and Jesse usually never comes. Louis can probably count on one hand the amount of times he’s seen Jesse interact with Avery. There’s always some kind of excuse coming out of his mouth about why he can’t stay or why he has to leave no matter how much Harry begs him to stay.

And even Harry can’t always stay for every lengthy chemotherapy appointment because of his job, but he tries his best. Louis can tell how much Harry hates leaving his daughter and Avery always looks so dreadfully sad when he’s not there, just sitting in a lonesome chair by herself as her system is flooded with toxic drugs. So Louis makes a real effort to visit her every time she comes in, sneaking down to Immunology to sit with Avery and keep her company during her treatments. He blocks out the time as best he can in his schedule, carefully avoiding getting pulled into any last minute surgeries.

Avery loves when Louis hangs out with her, and Louis loves it too. They talk about the most obscure things, whatever random ideas that flit through Avery’s imaginative head. She’ll tell him wild stories that she made up or sometimes Louis will tell her a story or two and they almost always end up giggling incessantly with each other. Just about everything that Avery says causes him to smile and their time together easily becomes the highlight of Louis’ passing weeks.

But one day when Louis sits down in his usual chair by her side, he notices that Avery doesn’t seem like her normal self. She smiles at him of course, and she greets him as she always does, but her overall demeanor is distant and downtrodden.

“Aves, are you ok?” Louis questions after observing her carefully over the last ten minutes.

She nods slowly, but sighs a bit.

“Is it making you feel nauseous again? Do you need a bucket?” Louis asks worriedly, moving to grab one anyway. There are some days when Avery’s system completely rejects the treatment and all she can do is vomit up everything inside her. On those days, Louis rubs her back gently and whispers soft comforts in her ear, hoping to make her feel better in any capacity he can. It’s devastating to watch her suffer through this, she takes everything so well in spirit, always putting on a brave face even if her body can’t quite keep up.

Avery shakes her head no, meeting Louis’ eyes finally. “I don’t feel bad today…”

“Then what’s wrong, little love?” Louis questions again, continuing to rub her back anyway.

“I just…I heard some of the nurses talking about my mom—how nice she was when she was here and a lot of them still remember her and I…” Avery pauses and Louis notices the makings of tears welling up under her eyes. “I don’t know anything about her… Daddy only tells me some things, but he...well…he doesn’t really like to talk about her.” She lowers her head sadly. “I think it hurts him too much. But sometimes…I really wish he would because she’s a big part of me and…I just…I wish I knew her...”

Hearing this from an eight-year-old hurts Louis, she sounds so much older than her years and it’s so upsetting to listen to. Avery deserves to know who her mother was, she deserves that connection with her. Every time Louis looks at Avery he can see little pieces of Gemma in her. Avery doesn’t just share her physical likeness, she has her mother’s kind heart and fiery spirit and she doesn’t even know it.

“Oh, she was _amazing_ …” Louis smiles gently, deciding right then and there that if shining light on who her mother was will help Avery in even the slightest way, he’ll do everything in his power to do just that. “One of the best people I’ve ever met.”

“Really?” Her face immediately lights up as she looks up at him, eyes practically begging him to say more.

“Yes, absolutely.” Louis answers wholeheartedly, nodding his head. “I was lucky enough to be one of her doctors when I was younger and she was easily one of my best friends, I adored your mum.”

“What was she like?” Avery wonders in a quiet voice, further confirming just how little she knows about Gemma.

“Oh, she was so many things. She was spunky—she spoke her mind and she didn’t ever apologize for it, kinda like me... I think that’s why we got along so well.” Louis smiles, thinking back on all his treasured memories with Gemma. “And she was so brave and fearless. You really couldn’t scare that girl, and if you did, she’d never let you know it. And she was so hilarious, all she did was joke around about everything. Your mum knew sarcasm very, very well.” He laughs fondly, remembering all the late nights he spent in her room laughing with her when he definitely should have been studying. “Oh! And she was an absolute cheater when it came to card games, because no one is that good. _No one._ I could never beat her at least, so obviously she was cheating.”

Avery laughs, face melting into a fascinated smile as she listens to Louis.

“She always reminded me of home—England. She was just so lovely and warm…kindhearted…” Louis describes thoughtfully. “And she was so beautiful, just like you—you look so much like her, Aves. It’s incredible…” He awes, noting all the subtle features about Avery’s face that uniquely link her to her mother. “I didn’t get to know your mother for her whole life, I only got to know her while she was ill, but I know she must have been even more amazing and lovely before. But one thing you have to remember about her, the most important thing of all is that she loved you so much.” Louis tells her strongly, looking Avery right in the eye so she really hears him. “So, _so_ much, Avery. You were her miracle—it was nearly all she talked about. You meant the absolute world to her. She fought as long as she possibly could for you, to keep you safe. Before you were even born, her heart was bursting with love just for you.”

Avery looks at him with impossibly wide eyes like no one has ever told her that before and it shocks Louis while simultaneously breaking his heart again and again.

“You know what, Aves...I still have a picture of her.” Louis pulls out his wallet, sliding out an old worn polaroid picture of Gemma pregnant with baby Avery, Louis and Harry huddled together in the background. “This was taken a few weeks before you were born. I wasn’t supposed to be in the picture really, I was just meant to be changing out your mum’s IV, but she said something ridiculous like ‘ _Oh, quit it Louis, I’m dying anyway_ ’ and she pulled me into the picture.” Louis smiles gradually, remembering that day well, although so long ago. “Your mum was amazing…I loved her and I always miss her.”

Avery holds the weathered picture in her hands gently, just staring down at it in pure awe. Her little fingers touch over her mother’s face as tears drop from her eyes. Louis wraps one arm around her shoulders, hugging her to his side as she starts to cry.

“But I want you to have that.” Louis whispers to her, running his hand up and down her side gently. She needs it far more than he does, she needs something tangible to hold on to and Louis is more than happy to give it to her.

Avery hugs Louis suddenly, pressing herself against his chest as both of her arms encircle his waist. “Thank you, Louis…t-thank you so much…”

Louis hugs her back tightly and his heart is physically sinking. This poor girl is starving for clues about her history, about her mother, about her life. Things she is entitled to know, but somehow has been kept in the dark. 

Has she really never been shown a picture of her mum this whole time? How can Harry possibly justify that in her best interest? Louis understands that it’s a sensitive topic for him, but he can’t just erase Gemma completely from his life, it’s not at all fair to Avery. He truly cannot believe how little she actually knows, practically nothing besides the bare minimum. And along with making Louis deeply sad in every part of his heart, the realization flat out infuriates him.

 

||☤||

 

Louis should have done this before.

He should have thrown caution to the wind and spoken up about it at the café, taken that moment to speak his mind once and for all. In fact, Louis should have done this when he first reunited with Harry a month ago. There’s no use holding on to it anymore, there’s no point in pretending everything is fine. Nothing is fine.

Ever since his conversation with Avery an hour ago, Louis can’t shake the unsettled feeling shrouding over him, looming above him like a storm cloud set to strike. He can’t sit still, he can’t brush his loud thoughts aside, he can’t distract himself, he’s in a escalating state of unease.

Seeing that look on Avery’s face, filled with such sadness and discouraged longing, sparked something in Louis, something he’s been trying so hard to pretend didn’t exist. A dark mix of bitter resentment brews inside him, renewed frustration and leagues of misplaced hurt creep their way back to the forefront of his mind along with every last emotion Louis has been forcing himself to swallow down since the day Harry set foot back in his life.

Louis paces the foyer of the hospital, right outside the front doors, strategically putting himself in a prime location to spot Harry in the parking lot. He should be getting off of work and on his way here to pick up Avery any minute and Louis is not going to let another day go by without getting this off of his chest. God knows he has been holding it in for far too long already.

Louis keeps a steady eye on the parking lot, tracking all the cars that come and go, not chancing any thing. And like a fate Louis doesn’t believe in, Harry finally appears. Hopping out of his car and struggling to get his umbrella open to combat the heavy night’s rain.

Louis doesn’t even have an umbrella on him, simply planning, as he always does, to brave through it and hope for the best. Nothing could stop him from doing this, not even the steady rain pelting his back as he dashes through the parking lot.

“Harry!”

Yes, Louis could do this somewhere else, somewhere dry. Yes, he could wait on a different day, maybe even a better day. The rain is beyond relentless, but Louis doesn’t care. He has to do this now or else he’ll go on regretting it forever and he can’t let that be an option anymore.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnPd4ieLs6o&index=3&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVviZPHRturfJllgd_ZdLASo&t=0s)

Harry turns around slowly in confusion, trench coat clad, holding the umbrella he finally got to function over his head. He looks around trying to figure out where he heard the sound of his name until his eyes lock on Louis, jogging up to him in a hurry.

“Louis, what ar—”

“Harry, I have to say this.” Louis rushes out before he loses his nerve, before Harry can even think about asking him questions. “I know you’re engaged and it’s been years…but I can’t keep walking the halls of this hospital with ghosts following me around and this awkward undefined tension between us. I can’t keep pretending like everything is fine…so I have to say this.”

Harry remains silent, allowing Louis to speak his mind. His brow is deeply furrowed, eyes confused, but still earnest.

Standing in front of Harry right now, Louis might as well still be that intern standing on a curb willing himself not to break in half. Like being right back at square one, he’s just as anxious as he was then, just as scared—he’s even just as wet, cold water already soaking through the material of his lab coat and scrubs.

_don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry_

Louis forces himself to inhale a deep breath, steeling himself up for the words about to come from his mouth, guarding himself against whatever the blowout might be.

“I was in love with you, Harry.” Louis starts, steadily holding Harry’s gaze. “All those years ago. I was…in love…”

Harry’s lips separate marginally as he sucks in the faintest gasp for air, almost like he can’t quite get a full breath. He stares back at Louis at a visible loss for words, mouth opening and closing, without any sound escaping. Slowly he starts to shake his head as if he doesn’t believe him, as if he can’t believe him. “But…b-but when I—when I tried...that one night and you—” He rambles incoherently, dancing around the subject. “I mean—you turned me down—” 

“Only because I wanted to be more, Harry!” Louis shouts in the rain, letting his frustration leak into his tone. He wipes the collecting water from his dripping hair, entire body soaked. “I wanted— _god_ , I wanted to be more to you! I wanted to be everything! And I don’t think you ever got that! I didn’t want to say no to you that night, saying no to you and holding back was so hard for me and…and I’m always going back and forth in my head about whether I made the right decision, whether it would have made a difference…” He drops his head down for a moment. “But I didn’t want you to wake up and feel like I used you, I wanted to be there for you in any and every way I could. You were in so much pain and all you wanted was to forget and I…I didn’t want you to want to forget me too because…I really loved you, Harry.”

Harry falters after Louis says those words again, sucking in another seemingly stunned breath.

“But somehow over the years you’ve twisted in your mind that I never wanted you—that you were some kind of burden to me, but that’s not true. It’s not. I _wanted_ you, Harry.” Louis professes, searching his questioning gaze again. “I wanted it all with you. We were young, but I knew—I knew I wanted you and I knew I would do anything for that little girl—I loved Avery, with everything I loved her. She was a part of me—she, she was my b-baby…” Louis admits quietly, closing his eyes as he tilts his head, feeling that horrible feeling of loss wash over him as strong as the falling rain. “I loved her like she was mine and as far as I was concerned, I was one of her parents. And I would have _always_ been that for her if you asked—if you let me in. You both were my family.”

Harry looks devastated, shaking his head more frantically now, expression laced with fervent disbelief. His eyes are red, horribly red, with saltwater glistening under their heavy rims. “Why…didn’t you—why didn’t you tell me? Louis…w-why didn’t you say anything to me…” 

_how could you not have known?_

“I…I was going to tell you when you got better—you had so much to deal with and I didn’t want to throw my feelings at you too…” Louis admits, his voice far quieter as he speaks slowly. “Everything was already too much for you and you were barely holding on as it was...so I thought I’d just be there for you…be your support through it all and when you were ready I’d...I’d tell you how I really felt...but then you…you left. And I tried telling you that n-night...but you shut me out...”

Harry continues to mindlessly toss his head back and forth, still frozen with paralyzing shock as he seems to have difficulty processing any of Louis’ words. “You let me leave—you…you wanted me to leave… y-you could have stopped me. If you really wanted to, if you really cared about me, you could—”

“If I really cared—are you fucking serious!? Don’t put that on me! Don’t you dare put that shit on me!” Louis argues back, tone growing suddenly furious over Harry’s jumbled refute. “You left me! You fucking left! You did that, not me! You! Maybe you were too fucking drunk to remember it clearly, but I do! I remember it all and you _left_!” He screams angrily, shoving the years of anguish out with it. “And when you set your mind out to do something, there is no stopping you and you know that! I never wanted you to leave and I tried to stop you! I tried so hard—I was screaming and shouting at you to fucking listen to me, to just slow down and think it through, but you wouldn’t! You just did what you and your drunk ass wanted to do!”

Louis’ chest is heaving and he feels the startling effects of adrenaline rushing through his system. In this moment, he doesn’t give a flying fuck about Harry’s feelings anymore, all he cares about is getting all the pent up energy out of him before he explodes—or maybe he already is exploding.

“And I went after you—I searched for you everyday for _months_! I almost failed my intern boards because I couldn’t fucking focus on anything else but you and Avery. You were all I ever thought about! And then you left me that stupid fucking voicemail and I nearly lost my mind. What the fuck was that, Harry!? I couldn’t get it out of my head—I was worried sick for you because of how much I cared about you!” Louis yells against the rain. “So don’t you dare stand there and pretend to be blameless in all this. Don’t. Don’t act like I didn’t care and don’t act like this is on me. I’m not taking that shit from you. Fuck you for even thinking that. You weren’t there to see what loving you did to me, you weren’t there to see how losing you broke me—god… _fuck_ …” Louis rubs both his hands over his face and through his completely drenched hair. He shakes his head several times before spinning around angrily to leave. He can’t take any of this any longer. “I’m done.”

Harry looks as though he’s just been backhanded across the face, eyes wide and emotive. “What do you mean you’re done? I—”

“I just said I loved you and you still somehow think I never cared! God, you haven’t changed!” Louis spins around to say, throwing his head back and almost laughing at the nonexistent humor of it all. He’s so fucking furious, he doesn’t even want to look at Harry, but yet somehow he can’t stop getting all his frustrations out no matter how harsh or ugly it may sound raging from his lips. “All these years and you’re still a selfish and scared coward! It’s all about you! It’s always been all about you! It’s why Avery doesn’t know jack shit about her own mother! It’s why she doesn’t know I ever existed in her life! Because you’re too scared to fucking face your past! To man up to reality and stop running from your problems! You are lying to yourself, Harry! You’re _lying_!”

Harry tries to reach after him. “Louis—” 

“No! I’m over it, Harry, I’m over you and your bullshit!” Louis jerks away in anger. Harshly honest words fly from his mouth, lit up like kerosene burning the cautious flame of doubt. Harry can never question how Louis feels about him now, he’s laid it all out on the table. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s over. I’ve said what I had to say and it’s in the past now. From now on you are the parent of my patient and that’s fucking all you are and ever will be to me.”

Louis storms off, hearing Harry call his name again, but willfully ignoring him as he marches through the hospital doors. He feels like he is going to physically burst at the seams, he’s surpassed angry, far beyond furious, but more than that, he’s hurt.

Louis hates thinking back on that time, he can hardly stand it, yet it plagues his thoughts relentlessly. He almost wishes he could ignore things as well as Harry seems to be able to, Louis wishes he could somehow make himself that numb to the world.

When Harry first left him, it ruined Louis beyond measure. There’s no other way to describe it, he was a mess. Hardly making it from day-to-day, falling behind on every aspect of his career, of his life. Niall had begged him to snap out of it, Liam had pleaded with him to move on, Zayn urged him to let it go, but he couldn’t. For the longest time, he couldn’t. Louis had latched himself onto Harry and Avery, they became his heart, his _family_. A family he so desperately needed. 

And for Harry to diminish that and insinuate that he somehow didn’t care—that he never cared at all… oh, Louis could punch a hole clean through the wall, but his livelihood is his hands. 

Eight years ago it was either drop out or figure out a way to get his fucking shit back together. Louis functioned on autopilot, turning his pain into drive and forgetting the rest. Being a workaholic was a way of survival, a way to distract himself from the reminder that he was alone. Once again all alone. Always all alone.

Fuck, he needs to break something. Hands aching to release the raging emotions bubbling hot in his bloodstream. He needs a way to safely release the mighty aggressions threatening to consume him. And what better way than to fuck shit up in the messiest, most hands-on lab in the hospital.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yedxh9Cxbb4&index=4&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVviZPHRturfJllgd_ZdLASo&t=0s)

Louis storms into the Ortho Lab in a fury, bursting through the doors only to find Liam working peacefully on some kind of out-of-the-box spine apparatus.

Liam glances up briefly, smiling at Louis warmly. “Hey Tommo, are you my consult? I paged Neuro, but I really only needed—”

“No.” Louis interrupts impatiently, eyes scanning and darting around the room anxiously in search of something…anything that he can reek havoc on. “Do you have something I can smash?”

“Smash?” Liam raises an eyebrow, looking up from the brace he’s crafting. He looks Louis over completely for the first time, frowning. “Why are you…wet?”

“It’s uh raining outside...”

“Ok…but why are _you_ wet? Where you out there standing in the rain? Why—”

“It doesn’t matter, Liam!” Louis fidgets irascibly, hands twitching at his sides as he bounces on his toes. “I need to—just, like…break something…you know…? Now. Right now.”

“Uhhh…” Liam eyes him and Louis can see the telltale signs of concern take over Liam’s expression. “Listen, Louis are you—”

“I’m fine, I’m _fine_!” Louis rushes to say, still jittering about. In the past month he’s said that expression more times than he can count and each time it’s even further from the truth. “Liam. Please.”

Liam takes a long look at him, and Louis knows just how not fine he looks, drenched from head to toe, anxiously fidgeting about. But Liam nods anyway, probably against his better judgment. He picks up his tablet from the workstation, pulling up a chart. “Here, take a look at my patient’s chart and then you can break down those casts if you want.” He nods his head towards a pile of old castings.

“Perfect. Lemme see.” Louis hurriedly takes the chart from Liam. Even in his current state, it only takes 5 seconds for him to diagnose the problem.

Liam starts giving him a patient history, going over details. “So after that last procedure, my patient has had constant spine pain and—”

“The nerve can’t be salvaged. I would insert an interspinal catheter for constant pain medication administration.” Louis interrupts, presenting a solution without needing anymore outside information.

“Oh, why didn’t I think of that? Thanks, Lou.” Liam smiles briefly before his face morphs immediately back to genuine worry for his friend. “Hey, I know you’re not ok, and that’s ok…I’m not going to force you to talk about it right now, but you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Mhmm.” Louis nods slowly. He knows how much Liam cares about him and he appreciates it more than words can say, but right now Louis feels like he is going to combust. Not with intelligible words, but with irate screams. He feels so _angry_ , rage simmering inside him every time he hears Harry’s words flitting through his head again.

_if you really cared…_

Louis clenches his fists at his side, holding so much tension in his jaw and shoulders, it feels like he could potentially pull a muscle.

Liam continues to eye him worriedly. But then he sighs a bit before turning towards the door, deciding on giving Louis space to process. “Ok well… I’m just gonna go and leave you to it. All I ask is that you clean up when you’re done.” 

“Ok, I will, I promise.”

The second Liam has left the lab, Louis wastes no time in grabbing the first mallet he sees, raising it high above his head before raining down the first blow against the pile of discarded casts. And it feels… _good_. Really good, actually. Louis brings down the hammer faster and faster, growing in frustration and building in force with each and every blow.

He’s smashing everything on the tray table, yelling and screaming any profane thing that comes to mind. “Motherfucking bastard! Shitface! Wanker! Son of a _bitch_!”

“What! The! Fuuuck!” Louis screams, hammering the cast moldings to sawdust in between each word. “I hate him! I hate him! _I hate him_!”

He brings the heavy mallet down harder and harder, feeling better with each angry hit. “Why! The! Goddamn! Fucking! Hell! Does! He! Make! Me! Feel! Like! This!” Louis growls, letting out all the pent up frustration and fury he’s accumulated over the past eight years. It’s exceedingly cathartic despite being clearly destructive in nature and Louis couldn’t stop if he tried.

And Louis doesn’t stop, not until he has absolutely pulverized every square inch of the casting material to fine powdered dust. He weakly takes a step back, chest heaving wildly as he tosses the mallet down on the metal table. He roughly drags his fingers through his already disheveled, soggy fringe, scraping harshly at his scalp. Louis slides his back down the far wall in helpless defeat, breathing heavily as he pulls his knees up to his chest. He hugs himself against the tops of his knees, arms wound tightly around his legs.

This whole time Harry has been parading around him in his life again and Louis kept telling himself he was fine, that he was over it, that it was so far in the past it couldn’t possibly bother him anymore as long as he didn’t think about it. But that couldn’t be any further from the truth and this inevitable breakdown he is having is only proof of that.

It was bound to happen, he realizes now. There is only so much pretending and avoiding the body can take before the system short circuits, needing some sort of release. And now he feels so empty and drawn out, like he has nothing left to give.

Louis truly has no concept of how much time has passed when Niall comes bursting into the lab in an absentminded hurry.

“Tomlinson, what the fuck?” Niall starts, sounding almost irritated. “I’ve been paging you nonstop. Liam said that I could...” His voice fades out as he takes in the scene around him, the annoyance in his features morphing instantly to concern. “…uh…find you…here…”

Louis looks up at him blearily, roughly scrubbing his hands through his horribly frazzled hair. He knows how bad this must look, he is painfully aware how pitiful he must appear in the eyes of someone else, but Louis can’t bring himself to care. 

“Shit, man...” Niall blows out a long breath, hand on his hip.

Louis stares out in front of him despondently, breathing shallow as he faintly shrugs his heavy shoulders.

Niall walks over to Louis slowly, sliding down next to him to sit against the wall. He rests a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “Hey…talk to me.”

Louis doesn’t have the words. Even if he wanted to open up, even if he wanted to share, he just doesn’t have the words.

“No, don’t do that, Louis. Please don’t.” Niall worries, shifting to sit in front of Louis, hands on his knees. “I can’t help if you don’t let me in.”

Niall has seen Louis at his very worst over the years and he has held Louis together more times than he can count. He’s the person Louis knows always has his back no matter what and he can say the same about Liam and Zayn.

Niall’s pager starts beeping against his waist and not a moment later Louis’ chirps along with it. “We’re gonna talk later, ok? This isn’t over. Liam, Zayn and I are going to come over and you’re going to fucking talk about this. You have no choice. If you are going through some shit, we aren’t going to let you do it alone. Got it?”

Louis still doesn’t answer, only lifting his head to give Niall a look. He’s not sure what the look he gives him means exactly, but Louis hopes it doesn’t appear as desolate and empty as Louis really feels.

“There’s a new trauma in the pit, possible concussions so we need you—can you work right now? Do I need to hunt down someone else from your department?”

Louis shakes himself out, inhaling slow and deep. “No, I’m good—I’m fine.” His voice comes out throaty and dry, cracking in all kinds of places and even still he hopes Niall believes him or at the very least, pretends to believe him for now. Louis needs to work, he needs to put himself to good use and distract his mind for a while. “I’m ok, really.”

Niall eyes him for a moment, but eventually nods. He stands to his feet and offers a hand to Louis to help him do the same.

“I uh…I promised Liam I’d clean up whatever mess I made…” Louis mentions quietly, surveying the damage he yielded on the cast moldings.

“Oh please, we’ll just have an intern do it. That’s what they’re for anyway.” Niall teases lightly, trying to get Louis to show some form of positive emotion.

Louis only offers a small, weak smile before moving wordlessly towards the exit.

“Hey.” Niall calls gently, turning Louis around and pulling him into a hug. It takes Louis completely by surprise, but he sinks into his best friend’s embrace, cherishing the feeling of warm arms cocooning him, holding him together. “I’m here for you, ok. I’m right here...”


	5. five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtjJgq3Yc9P5gv8inM19l99) for five + six. also, as requested i made a complete spotify [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/039brm7pp6itxzvc1bie3keja/playlist/6HFn3tKnbySjIVlX2ltP68?si=2-UmG_bLQ4W5wxtxcn7eVA) that has all the songs from the entire fic so far (except one rip), but ill continue to update it with the new songs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends! sorry this update is a little later than usual, my work schedule was ugly lol but! to make up for it i finished two chapters again...not that i want you to get used to that but i wrote these two in tandem with each other cuz it was easier that way. anyway, thanks so so much for the comments and support, i appreciate you all! :'))
> 
> love lex .x

_the rhythm it marches to is irregular_.

||✚||

♫

In love.

Louis was in love with him.

Not a crush, not a slight attraction, actually _in love_.

Harry had considered it, often dreaming about it being true one day, entertaining the welcome notion in his head from time to time, but he’d never thought it was true. It couldn’t possibly be true.

_if it wasn’t true, then why does it hurt so bad…_

Standing in his kitchen, Harry’s thoughts whirl as he mindlessly chops up vegetables for dinner. It’s taking him far longer than it should because his brain is almost completely bogged down by the ceaseless echoing of Louis’ words still ringing loudly in his head.

That time in his life—seeming almost a lifetime ago, when his sister had died and nothing made sense, was so very dark. So horrifyingly etched in pitch black darkness that he never allowed himself to even think of it. He told himself repeatedly that nothing good ever came out of that time. He couldn’t separate the few good memories from the mountain of bad ones, so he wrote them all off as bad. Harry was so drunk and angry at everything; it all became a blur. A huge, shadowy, painful blur that he has refused to dissect apart or revisit in years, carrying on as though it never happened.

But is it possible that in doing so he erased all that Louis really was.

Louis was…he was… _everything_ —that much Harry can easily remember. Before Gemma died, Louis was the person who made him smile everyday, the person who made the smallest things utterly hilarious for no real reason, the person he could share an empty room with for hours and never once get bored. He trusted Louis with any and every thing, pouring out secrets meant for only his ears like it was everyday conversation.

But oddly enough, despite their undeniable chemistry, Harry couldn’t picture Louis ever coming to have feelings for him or caring about him past the level of friends. He could never picture himself as anything, but a nuisance and a burden to Louis. A freeloading burden who inevitably caused him more grief than good, part of why he left in the first place. How could Harry have gotten it so wrong? How could he have not known or at least had an inkling that Louis had feelings for him all that time? He must have known. There had to have been a part of him that knew.

_he loved me, he really loved me_

But it doesn’t even matter now, Louis doesn’t love him anymore, he made that crystal clear when he screamed in Harry’s face. And Harry has long laid to rest whatever emotions he had tied up in Louis. He has a new life now, a good life.

_you’re still a scared and selfish coward_

Harry was mad about it at first—he was furious that Louis would throw names in his face like that. Spit out so harshly, they hit straight to Harry’s very core. But the more he thinks about it, the more he starts to open himself up little by little, the more Harry starts to get the sinking feeling that maybe there is some truth to Louis’ bold words. It’s no secret that Harry avoids anything that even slightly causes him pain and to do that he had to close himself off emotionally. Harry told himself anything that would make the pain cease, anything that would give him a moments relief. But he couldn’t possibly be as indifferent to the truth as Louis claims. Could he?

_you are lying to yourself, harry. you’re lying…_

“Ow! _Shit!”_ Harry curses loudly, wincing as he looks down at the finger he absentmindedly nicked with his knife. A steady trickling of blood pouring from the wound onto the cutting board.

“Daddy, what’s wrong? Are you ok?” Avery worries, instantly sitting up from her seat at the table where she’d been quietly doing her take home school assignments that she’d missed.

“Mhmm…I’m fine, Avie.” Harry forces a tight smile to reassure her, but he doesn’t feel all that fine. And not just because his hand is oozing with blood.

“Harry, what happened?” Jesse comes into the kitchen, having heard Harry from the other room.

“I just—I cut my finger on accident. It’s nothing. I’m fine.” Harry tries again, staring down at the bloody mess he’s making on the countertop, but not seeming to find the will to do anything about it.

“You’re not fine.” Jesse protests, forcibly grabbing Harry’s hand to inspect it. He tries to meet Harry’s eyes, but Harry does everything he can to avoid his gaze, casting his attention to the ground. “Avery, go play in your room.”

“Why?” Avery frowns at Jesse, looking perfectly content where she sits at the kitchen table. “I’m doing my homework.”

“Avery, please. Take your homework with you, ok?” Jesse advises, forcing Harry to sit down on one of the kitchen stools. “I have to talk to your Dad.”

Avery doesn’t argue any more, she never would. She’s always been obedient in that way. Although her face still looks impossibly worried about her father. She gathers up her things to leave as instructed, but on her way out of the kitchen she stops by the stool Harry is sitting on and leans up on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek.

“I’m ok, Munch.” Harry whispers to her softly, returning a kiss to the crown of her head. “I promise, I’m ok, baby.”

Avery nods, seemingly satisfied for now that he’s really ok. She cares so much about Harry, always worrying about him and making sure he’s doing alright. It’s not her job to do that of course, but since it was just the two of them for so long, their relationship isn’t always usual. It’s not just a father-daughter bond between them, they’re as thick as thieves, they’re the best of friends and they love each other more than anything.

Jesse pulls out the first aid kit from under the sink, reaching first for an antiseptic cloth to wipe the open wound. “So what’s going on, babe?”

Harry winces again as the cloth stings the gash digging through his index finger, the pressure causing the bleeding to cease. “What? Nothing is going on, my hand just slipped.”

“You’ve been distracted since you got home today.” Jesse continues, working on securing a Band-Aid around Harry’s finger.

“No, I haven’t.” Harry protests, still carefully avoiding eye contact with his fiancé.

“Harry.” Jesse eyes him flatly, looking up from his newly bandaged hand. “Earlier I asked you if you needed any help with dinner and you answered me with ‘No, I hate that movie’.”

“I um…I must have misheard you or something—I don’t know, I’m fine.” Harry insists again.

Jesse pauses for a long moment before speaking next. “Does this have something to do with Louis?”

“What? W-Why would you ask that, Jesse?” Harry stutters a bit, caught off guard.

“Because I saw you talking earlier. In the hospital parking lot…” Jesse admits cautiously, treading lightly as though he knows it’s a sensitive subject. “What were you talking about?”

“Nothing.” Harry answers instantly, looking down at his finger to avoid eye contact.

“Clearly it’s not nothing—”

“Not everything has to mean something, ok? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Harry?” Jesse presses, resting a hand flat to Harry’s back. “I mean—what? Were you close or something? Is he an ex? Just talk to me, babe.”

“No, he’s not an ex…he’s just…” Harry doesn’t know how to finish his sentence, growing more and more frustrated with the whole conversation. Louis wasn’t _just_ anything, he was everything.

“Just?”

“I don’t know, ok!” Harry bursts suddenly, exasperated. He doesn’t want to sit and dissect this, he doesn’t want to think back and hash out everything that happened between them. It’s overwhelming. “I don’t fucking know…”

Jesse looks taken aback by his partner’s outburst, eyeing Harry closely but remaining silent.

“I knew him…years ago…we were young…and he…” Harry mumbles, slumped down on the stool. He runs his uninjured hand through his hair. “We just...I don’t know. We’ve always just understood each other…more than other people? It’s different…with him—I’m different with him. He um…I don’t know…he gets me? Or he used to? I don’t know…”

“So…you’re saying that I don’t get you?” Jesse questions, features morphing with a twinge of hurt.

“No! That’s not what I’m saying at all…” Harry groans in frustration. He doesn’t know what he’s saying, so completely out of touch with his emotions. This day has been so confusing and complicated, putting Harry on sensory overload. All he can hear is Louis’ voice raging in his head, heated words jumbled and rattled against the confines of his mind.

“Then what—”

 “I don’t want to talk about this.” Harry rushes out decisively, giving his head a final shake.

Jesse takes a few steps closer. “Harry—”

“Jes. _Please_.” Harry meets his fiancé’s eyes seriously, practically begging. “Just drop it, please. It’s over, it’s in the past. It’s nothing.”

Jesse holds his gaze and Harry is silently willing him to let it go, he just doesn’t have the strength to discuss this right now. “Fine.” 

“Thank you.” Harry forces out an appreciative smile, pecking Jesse’s lips lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jesse presses forward, standing in between Harry’s legs as he tries to deepen the kiss. His hands reach up to cup Harry’s face affectionately, but Harry pulls away, quickly ducking out of Jesse’s arms to stand to his feet.

“Um...I’m just gonna erm run out…and pick up carry out instead of cooking tonight. Um yeah…” Harry announces, scratching the back of his neck a bit awkwardly as he stands a good distance from his fiancé.

Jesse eyes him curiously, frowning with uncertainty. “Mmm, ok…”

“Ok.” Harry echoes, nodding to himself and taking a deep breath as he stumbles out of the kitchen. He isn’t sure what the hell is going on with him, but he knows that whatever it is, it can’t be good.

 

||☤||

 

Louis crashes down on his living room sofa, finding just the idea of standing to be onerous. What a day he’s had, what a fucking day. After he left the Ortho lab, Louis was rushed right into surgery to work on the victims of a hit and run motorcycle accident. There had been two patients, one a spinal injury, the other a head laceration and deep contusion. Both were clearly surgical and both required a neurosurgeon, but all the other attendings under Louis’ department were already working on other cases.

Thankfully, the spinal injury only required a minor repair on the neuro end, so a resident could easily handle it. Or a resident should have been able to easily handle it, but it was just Louis’ luck that there ended up being complications far too advanced for his fourth year resident, so he ended up basically juggling himself between two different ORs. All together he’d spent an additional seven hours in an unplanned surgery, not to mention the facial reconstruction surgery he assisted on earlier in the morning or his blow out with Harry in the afternoon. 

Louis is utterly exhausted to say the least. 

He stretches out on his couch, eyes falling closed until he feels the familiar press of a wet nose against his cheek. Louis opens his eyes, managing a half-smile for his old friend. “Hello Benny Boy. How are you, lad?” He sits up to greet his dog properly, scratching behind Benedict’s ears just how he likes.

“Hungry?” Louis asks even though he leaves Benedict’s bowl full of extra food everyday. But whenever Louis spends a longer shift at the hospital, he likes to give him something extra for always being so good. “Yeah me too, buddy. Come on, let’s go see what we’ve got.”

Louis drags his heavy feet to the kitchen, trailed by an eager and excited Benedict. He tells Benny to “sit” and then “lay down” to which his dog easily abides to, before tossing him two dog treats. Next, Louis sets out to rummage through his kitchen in search of something marginally edible. He must admit it’s been awhile since he went grocery shopping, never seeming to find the time—more so, never seeing the need to make the time when he can just order take out or eat around the hospital. The only thing he finds is a container of two day old Fettuccini Alfredo, popping the lid off to find that it smells just like freezer, only eluding to what it probably tastes like.

“Ughhh, fuck it all to hell.” Louis groans, slamming the fridge closed and dropping the container in the trash.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFYnDSFlLLI&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtjJgq3Yc9P5gv8inM19l99&index=1)

In lieu of actual food, Louis settles on a fresh, unopened bottle of his favorite tequila. He climbs the stairs to the master bedroom, forgoing the actual room and heading straight for the bathroom, where he hops right into the bathtub fully clothed. Louis settles down in the basin of the empty tub, cuddled up with a bottle of Tequila Don Julio Blanco. Louis pops open the blue bottle, tossing his head back and downing a hefty amount in one go. He keeps drinking until half the bottle is in his system. Despite how little he wants to think about it, all his mind can seem to do is go over his conversation with Harry. The shocked look on his face, the horror in his eye, the uncertainty interlaced with his voice, all of it burned to the forefront of Louis’ conscious.

How the hell could Harry ever come to the conclusion that Louis doesn’t care—that he _never_ cared? After all Louis did, it’s not even logically sound, which only confirms Louis’ initial conclusion that Harry has undoubtedly taken to lying to himself in order to cope. Because even if actions where somehow not enough, Louis not only showed how much he cared, he literally told Harry explicitly in his many seemingly ignored voicemails he left in Harry’s inbox.

_“Harry, hi it’s me again—Louis…in case you forgot my name or you have amnesia or something. I’m kidding, obviously, because if that were indeed the case and you really did have amnesia then telling you my name probably wouldn’t do a damns worth of good anyways because you wouldn’t remember shit—sorry fuck I’m rambling again. Sorry. Shit—but I’m only rambling because I’m…well nervous or uh scared rather, yeah. I just—why won’t you just talk to me, Harry? I’m really worried about you, H. I’m sorry if you felt like…I dunno, like I was coming at you or something—I wasn’t, I swear. Maybe I came on too strong? Maybe I pushed you too far and you weren’t ready yet? I dunno—but Harry I care about you so much and I just want to know if you’re ok. That’s all… It’s really quiet around here without you and Avery and I…I miss you...I really do…and uh Benny misses you too, he sits by your door and he whines and…I just—H, please call me back. Please…”_

“Oh fuck. Not the bathtub…”

Louis lifts his head, to find Niall at his bathroom door. “It’s just a bathtub kind of day, mate.” He lifts his tequila bottle in a mock toast, before sucking down more of the clear liquor. It burns a bit on its way down, but Louis hardly notices it much as the effects of alcohol start to take their toll on his willing system.

“Are you drunk too?” Niall asks in concern, eyeing Louis’ half drunken bottle.

“I dunno, are you drunk?” Louis tosses back, tilting his head at him.

Niall sighs, getting his answer. “I used my emergency key, I figured you wouldn’t let me in.”

“You figured right.” Louis confirms, taking another long swig of his bottle.

“I brought comfort food.” Niall holds up a bag of some kind of takeout and it smells absolutely heavenly. “I also figured you had no food in this house.”

“Again. Spot on assessment…” Louis quips, lulling his head against the shower wall.

“Ooh, so I’m dealing with bitter drunk Louis, fantastic.” Niall notes sarcastically. Being drunk for Louis can have a range of effects on his spirit. He has the potential to become the life of the party or a mess of uncontrollable giggles and jokes or even a big, soft cuddlebear. But on a bad day, alcohol can only take a turn for the worst and morph his already sarcastic and sassy spirit into a bitter bitch, as Zayn always calls him.

“Talk.” Niall says simply after he has crawled into the tub, nestling on the opposite side.

They used to do this sort of thing all the time, especially when Harry first left. Niall would come over after work to check on Louis and he never failed to find him huddled up in his bathtub. Louis doesn’t even know exactly why he started taking to the tub; the first time he was actually just taking a shower and then he just sat down. That’s when he discovered the illusion of safety the porcelain tub offers. Soon he’d just climb in fully clothed only to think and process. It helps, oddly enough.

“I don’t have anything to saaay.” Louis groans irritably, exhaling as he drags his sentence out. “Don’t you have plans with Charlie tonight or something?”

“She understood, it’s fine.” Niall brushes off, his entire priority centered around Louis. “Now talk.”

“Talk about _what?”_

“Louis.” Niall says his name flatly, narrowing his eyes. And yeah, Louis knows he’s being difficult, but he doesn’t feel like talking. Frankly, he doesn’t feel like doing much of anything. And besides…he’s drunk.

“There’s nooothing to talk about!” Louis insists, voice slightly raised this time as he sighs again.

“Ok, how about I talk then and you tell me if I’m close. Can you do that?”

Louis sighs again heavily, drinking a bit more from the bottle. “Fiiine…”

“Alright, well I know it has to be about Harry. You’ve been on the verge of combusting ever since he came back around.” Niall guesses without needing much thought. “And I’m guessing you finally stopped pretending to be fine and talked to him…”

Louis doesn’t deny him, keeping his head lent against the tiled wall. And for some reason—the alcohol most likely, he’s finding himself a little irritated that Niall knows him so well.

“Am I getting close?” Niall asks, leaning in a bit.

Louis sighs despondently, nodding his head in silence.

“Right.” Niall gathers. “And I take it that it didn’t go so well. Considering the murder scene I walked into earlier at the Ortho lab. Plus your current drunken state. Listen Lou, if you want me to go fight him I will—he lives in Seattle again, we can make this happen. Just say the word and I’ll go fuck him up on your honor.”

Louis cracks a small amused smile, lulling his head towards his dear friend. “Oooh Niall, you’re sooo cute.”

“I’m serious Lou, if he hurt you I don’t care what sob story he uses as an excuse, I’m ready to fight.” Niall pledges. Louis knows he isn’t serious, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but he’s also so protective over Louis, always bending over backwards to do right by him.

And honestly Louis is not exactly mad at what Harry did back then, more so just mad at the whole situation and how it ended. Or didn’t end. When Harry left he was young, dumb, and wounded—Louis gets it, he does. You do stupid shit when you’re hurting and Louis knows that painfully from experience.

But what Louis is undeniably furious about is the fact that after all these years Harry still can’t recognize what really happened. He still can’t put the pieces together and admit the whole truth. Admit what he did was wrong and immature and own up to it. No one can change the past, but what Harry can do is take responsibility for his actions and how they may have affected the lives around him. But Harry can’t seem to do that and it’s like he has been emotionally stunted this entire time. Despite the numbers he has gained in years and age on the outside, he is still the same scared, broken twenty-four year old kid on the inside, emotionally on pause.

“He didn’t hurt me…not really, not recently anyway—it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get—” Louis sighs heavily, taking another swig just to get through talking about this. “Ok. So listen to this, I finally told him how I felt—or how I used to feel—whatever, fuck it...and then he spouted off some bullshit about how I could have made him stay if I really cared about him…like what...the…fuuuck…” He drags out, widening his eyes.

“That is bullshit.” Niall agrees automatically.

“Right?” Louis emphasizes sitting up, guzzling more tequila. “It’s bullshit shit shiiit fucking _shit_.” He nods his head around on each word, speech slurred. “So I uh snapped and told him to fuck off—abridged version.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Cuz who needs that? Not meee…I don’t need that cuz I’ve got Don Julio!” He laughs, coddling his bottle of tequila to his chest. “And Donny is my beeest frieeend.”

“Ok, but you’re obviously still not ok with it…otherwise you wouldn’t be getting drunk right now.”

“Of course I’m not ok with it, Ni! He really has me painted as some kind of evil Disney villain in his head and I don’t deserve that?” Louis frowns to himself distantly as though he’s confused himself somehow. “Do you think I deserve that? I don’t right? No?…No?”

“No, Lou. No, of course not.” Niall agrees instantly, resting a hand on Louis’ knee. “You don’t deserve that at all. It’s easy to twist up the truth when you’re going through something that turns your whole world upside down, and Harry went through a lot of shit at once and didn’t handle it well, but none of that is on you.”

“But he doesn’t…he doesn’t _geeet_ it.” Louis repeats again. “It’s not even that he doesn’t get it? It’s that he reeefuses to get it…”

“Get what, Lou?” Niall asks in total confusion.

“ _It_!” Louis repeats obviously with impossibly wide eyes. “It! Us! Me! Like—he refuses to get it and I knooow he gets it because it’s _iiiit_ , you know? It is what it is and he knoooows it! Am I making sense? No? I’m not, huh? You’re looking at me liiike…I dunno liiike? I’m speaking Latin or some shit?”

“You’re so wasted, wow.” Niall awes, tilting his head as he considers Louis. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“ _Yeees_!” Louis nods repeatedly, attempting to sit up. “I knooow that he knooows deep down somewhere and if he would just wake the fuck up and stop lyyying to himself he’d get iiiit! He’d get that I _loooved_ him! That I would have supported him through it aaaall! That I needed him as much as he needed me! _God_ —we never even dated!” He bursts in sudden furious frustration. “We neeever were _anything_! Not really anyway, that’s what makes it all even more shiiiitty.”

“I think you know that what you had goes way beyond just dating, Lou.”

“Fuuuck.” Louis sighs, putting the bottle right back to his lips and tossing his head back. “And what’s even wooorse is that I care. I still fucking _caaare._ About him about what happened about us. I care! I haaate that I love him—loved him? _Fuck._ ”

“Maybe you’re just not over him yet?” Niall tries gently.

“But I neeeed to be, Niall…I need to be over this whooole thing. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep caring about him. He left me eight yeeears ago and he moved on, but I can’t! Whyyyy can’t I? Why does he still have anyyy kind of effect on me? Ugh! Maaaybe I really should just start hating him instead? Yeah? Yeaaaah. I basically told him I haaate him anyway….”

The door cracks open and Zayn pokes his dark haired head into the bathroom.

“Zaynnnn!” Louis gasps as though he hasn’t seen him in decades. “You’re hereee.”

“Drunk Louis?” Zayn questions towards Niall as he takes note of the two of them in the bathtub.

Niall nods with a sigh. “Drunk and bitter Louis.”

“Shit, I was hoping for goofy and giggling Louis. That guy is a hoot.” Zayn says as he opens the door fully to walk in. “Definitely my favorite drunk Louis.”

“That Louis is _deaaad_.” Louis grumbles, with a deep pouty frown.

“Right. Well, I brought more fuel for the fire.” Zayn lifts two more bottles of alcohol, both of them tequila. “Which may not be the best thing…but oh well…”

Liam follows behind Zayn, walking into the room and automatically making an assessment. “How bad is he?”

“Wasted as fuck. Bitter as fuck.” Zayn relays over his shoulder.

“I figured.” Liam nods.

“Liammmmm!” Louis gasps again with the same level of genuine surprise, wide eyes and all. “It’s youuu!”  

“Hey bud, you look cozy in there.” Liam smiles at Louis but then looks to Niall in question. “What happened?”

Niall glances at Louis before opening his mouth to speak. “Uh well—”

“Ooh nooo! I’ll tell you—let me do it... I can do it _sooo_ much better, I swear!” Louis manages to somehow sit up in the bathtub, righting himself while drunkenly hiccuping. “Sooo what happened is...Harry can go _fuuuck_ himself.”

“Well alright then.” Zayn nods opening up another bottle.

“He doesn’t really mean that.” Niall explains, serving as Louis’ interpreter.

“Ooh yes I dooo.” Louis argues, nodding his head. “I meeean that shit—oh nooo! Donny!” He pouts suddenly, holding his empty bottle upside down. “My best friend is gooone.”

“Is he really talking about the tequila?” Liam wonders, shaking his head. “Oh my god. How did he get that drunk?”

“I mean, he did finish an entire bottle himself...” Niall notes, glancing at Louis with growing concern etched on his face.

“Here you go, bro.” Zayn replaces Louis empty bottle with a fresh one. “I got you.”

“Aww Zaaayn, I love yooou…” Louis gives Zayn a dopey, hazed smile as he cradles his new bottle. “And I looove you too, Donnyyy.”

“Z, why are you encouraging him?” Liam questions, voice laden with disapproval.

“He’s _sad_!” Zayn defends, sitting next to Louis along the outside of the tub. “Let him be sad. He’s had a hard day.” He coddles Louis, arm around his shoulder as he pets his hair understandingly. “I know, babe it’s ok. You just drink your little heart out, we’ll worry about it later.”

“Thaaank you…I alwaaays loved you the mooost…you’re my faaavorite friend, second to Dooonny, of course…” Louis rests his head down on Zayn’s shoulder, snuggling as close to him as possible. “Zayn, I’m really, really saaad…”

Zayn nods sympathetically, still running his finger’s through Louis’ hair to soothe him. “I know, Lou, I know…”

“I think he’s turning into drunk and cuddly Louis.” Niall observes from his end of the tub.

“You wanna know something reaaally funny?” Louis lifts his gaze, sporting a growing shit-eating grin.

“What?” Zayn asks.

“Harry’s fiancé is a toootal asswipe.” Louis giggles to himself, eyes falling closed. “He’s the _wooorst.”_

“Oh no, he’s back. Still bitter.” Niall gathers with a nod.

“Hey Lou, maybe you should go out on a date or get laid or something?” Liam suggests, trying to be helpful. “It’s been a while I’m sure.”

Louis opens his eyes and frowns defensively. “What are you trying to saaay, Liam? That I need to go fuck my feelings for Harry out of my system?”

“No. No, I just think getting to know a few new people wouldn’t hurt, you know?” Liam tries carefully, treading as light as possible.

“Nooo, I don’t know.” Louis continues to frown. “Liiike? What is the point of meaningless sex?”

“Um it feels good? I dunno…” Zayn shrugs noncommittally. “It works—takes your mind off of things for sure.”

“Ok, buuut what happens after thaaat?” Louis wonders.

Liam opens his mouth to answer, but Louis beats him to it.

“I’ll tell you exaaactly what happens! I end up feeling shittier than I did to begin with.” Louis starts giggling again, eyes fluttering closed.

“You don’t know that for sure.” Niall tries.

“Ummmmm but I dooo.” Louis smiles sarcastically, taking a pitiful swig from his bottle. And he really does because he tried that for awhile. A _long_ while. And, spoiler alert: it didn’t fucking work.

“There’s that resident in gastroenterology. He’s pretty hot. And I heard he went through a bad breakup so—”

“Sooo what? He’s an easy saaad target like me? Is that what you’re trying to say? How bloody chaaarming.” Louis grumbles flatly, taking another swish of tequila.

“I just think you could be sad and bitter together, that’s all.” Liam smiles, trying to lightly tease, but Louis is in no mood for those kind of jokes in his state of mind.

“Oh, fuuuck off.” Louis flips him off, resting his head back down on Zayn’s shoulder. “Ok, enouuugh about me…” He waves off with his eyes closed. “Why don’t we talk about yooou guys now. What’s neeew?”

“Nothing new, I’m mostly doing Liam, as usual.” Zayn shrugs, answering honestly.

“Same.” Liam nods easily. “Erm or no—I mean I’m doing Zayn, not myself, yeah…”

“I don’t understand you guys…” Louis’ sighs heavily, sitting up and sliding a hand through his now messy hair. “Liiike? For such smaaart people? You’re sooo fucking dumb? You have a potentially greeeat thing between you and you’re waaasting it.”

“We aren’t wasting it, we’re doing it. Literally.” Zayn argues with a smirk. “I’m always _doing_ it.”

“No, no, no, _nooo_.” Louis shakes his head drunkenly, Don Julio bottle sloshing a bit into the tub. “There’s nooo commitment, there’s nooo effort—you’re just half-assing it for whatever shit reason—but you’d be really reaaally good together, you know? If you’d stop being so fucking stuuupid.” He gasps suddenly, sitting up as much as he can in the tub and consequentially spilling more tequila over himself. “Oooh! You know what your problem is? You don’t talk to each other…you only fuck each other—there’s nooo communication. You’re both like? Communication bottoms? But like? One of you has to start being the top sometimes for this to work.”

Liam, Zayn, and Niall all blink at Louis with wide eyes, faces loaded with incredulity.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m riiight. I’m drunk, but I’m sooo right...” Louis hiccups, holding his tequila to his chest. “And as your friend, I ooonly want the best for you. Be a top sometimes.”

“Oh my god…” Niall shakes his head, still watching Louis as though he’s suddenly sprouted a second head.

“And yooou…” Louis pulls the direction of his head towards Niall next, pointing the tip of his bottle at him. “What’s going on? Is Charlie a fling oooor…”

“No, she’s not a fling.” Niall denies, going all bashful as he usually does. “She’s…more than that.”

“Soooo you’re dating? Liiiike? Serious, seeeerious dating? Exclusive dating?” Louis wonders further as his slurred speech only gets worse and worse. “I neeeeed to know, I’m invested now because she’s becoming my faaave intern.”

Niall’s face goes a bit soft as his cheeks color up. “Um…yeah…yeah we are…”

“Zayn, you owe meee money.” Louis twists to look up at Zayn. “It’s only beeeen a month, I wiiin…”

Zayn nods easily, draping his arm back around Louis. “I’ll take you out of for a really fancy dinner, Lou. I’ll show you a good time, I promise.”

“You guys really placed bets on my relationship?” Niall asks in disbelief.

“Heck yeah, man.” Zayn smirks at him. “Easy money.”

“But you lost.” Liam reminds.

“Those are just details, ok. Shh.”

“Mmmm…I’m sleeeepy...” Louis yawns, curling up in the tub with his eyes closed, using his alcohol bottle as some kind of teddy bear.

“Ok, I’m just gonna take this.” Liam decides, prying the bottle from Louis’ unwilling hands.

“Nooo! Dooonny!” Louis pouts, demonstrating genuine separation anxiety from losing his best friend.

“You’ve had too much fun with Donny for one night.” Liam says, like a wise parent.

Louis crosses his hands across his chest petulantly, glaring at Liam. “Give him back, Liam! He’s _my_ beeest frieeend!”

Liam crosses the bathroom floor to the sink, tipping the bottle over and emptying the rest of its contents down the drain. Something Louis is 100% not ok with, and he immediately says as much.

“Noooo! You muuurdered Donny!” Louis screeches in genuine horror, both hands on each side of his face as he screams. “You’re a murdereeer! I would never let you be my doctor! You’re a kiiiller!”

“It’s tequila, Louis! _Tequila_!” Liam shouts back.

“Don’t fucking talk about my best friend like that! Have you nooo respect for the dead! Goddammit Liam! Don Julio was a good fuuucking person! He didn’t deserve thaaat!” Louis drunkenly yells, throwing his head back in sudden agony. “Oh my _god!_ I miss him sooo much! He was taken too soooon and, and he was yoooung! So full of liiife! And you took him from me—I’ll never forgive yooou, Liam! _Neveeer_! Never ever never never ever never…”

“Ok great, thanks.” Liam nods unaffected and unbothered by Louis’ empty drunken threats. Especially since his repeated and jumbled ‘never evers’ soon started morphing into heavy drawn out yawns. “Let’s get you to bed so you can sleep this off.”

Niall tries to hold back his growing laugher, but he can’t anymore, giggling right along with Zayn. “One day I’m gonna retire from medicine and become a director and I’m gonna make a documentary called Doctors After Hours and the only star will be all the versions of drunk Louis.”

“Honestly?” Zayn ponders, looking up for a moment. “I’d watch that.”

“Imagine all the possibilities…” Niall continues to laugh. “I’d just follow him around with a camera. Maybe strategically place Liam in his way just to bother him. It’d be fucking gold.”

“I’m sorry, I’m still stuck on the fact the he claimed pouring the bottle down the drain was murder, but him drinking it wasn’t?” Zayn stares up, tying to rationalize the drunken passions of his ridiculous friend.

“The best part is that he is deadass serious.” Niall cackles. “We should have recorded it; he’ll never believe us when we try to explain how fucking wasted he was.”

Zayn laughs. “Be sure to tune in next week on Doctors After Hours when we find out just how much Louis actually remembers about tonight.”

 

 

||☤||

 

“I need the day off.” Louis announces the very second he opens the door to The Chief’s office, taking off his sunglasses. Louis woke up feeling shitty. Beyond shitty really. If shit could manifest itself into a human form it would without a doubt, equate to Louis’ current existential state. He steps into Steve’s office dressed in the same sweats he fell asleep in last night, messy unkempt hair stuffed under a lopsided beanie. Thanks to an unfortunate mishap at the elevator, he has a massive coffee stain running down the length of his t-shirt and he’d hardly bothered to cover it up with his hoodie. Because…why? Who cares honestly.

Louis is also in an odd state of being hungover from the night before and also drunk from the generous amount of rum he pretended to disguise with coffee this morning. And if the bags under his eyes aren’t enough of an indicator, he probably reeks of booze, just further eluding to his massive break down. Essentially he has reverted all the way back in time to the weeks after Harry first left. And overall Louis probably looks more like a person living on the streets than an established and highly esteemed neurosurgeon. But again…who cares?

“Um…what?” Steve looks up from his desk, instantly perplexed by the disturbing state of his Chief of Neurosurgery. He gives Louis a once over, removing his reading glasses from his face in dismay. 

Louis plops down on the loveseat sized couch decorating the office, kicking his feet up on the small coffee table. “I said…I need the day off.”

Steve narrows his eyes in confusion, setting down his glasses slowly. “Yes, I heard that, but…”

“I need the day off to do some drinking.” Louis declares in mock cheerfulness, giving Steve an overly enthusiastic smile. And in a move of absolute unprofessionalism, he pulls a mini bottle of tequila out of his pocket and holds it up in the air, tipping it towards The Chief. “Cheers, Steve.”

“Are you out of your mind!?” Steve gasps, jaw falling in shock.

“Who knows?” Louis shrugs with a self-depreciating laugh, chugging the small bottle dry.

“ _Louis_!” Steve gasps again in pure disbelief. “This is a hospital! A place of healing and medicine!”

Louis downs the whole miniature bottle, finishing it off with a loud burp, before standing to his feet. “Push all my surgeries.” 

“Oh my god, Louis! You can’t be serious!”

“I just said I’m drinking today. And I came here to give you a heads up that I’m not coming in today because…” He giggles drunkenly, throwing his head back and shrugging. “I’m driiinkinnnggg!”

“Tomlinson, what the hell is wrong with you? You’ve never acted like this in all the many years I’ve known you. This isn’t—”

“I give my all every day, all year long. I bring high profile cases to this hospital. I publish clinical trials, I bring lucrative grant funding. I do it all!” Louis interrupts, voice picking up in volume. “And all I’m asking for is that for today, for this one goddamn day, that I be allowed to drink and drink and drink without being paged. Or called. Or bothered. Or _anything_.”

Steve stands utterly stunned by Louis’ outburst. Slowly he begins to cross the expanse of his office to sit down next to Louis on the couch. He places a gentle hand on his shoulder, tilting his head in concern. “Louis, are you ok? I’m very worried about you. Not just as your boss, but as a friend. Are you ok? You can be honest with me, we all have bad days.”

“I'm fine Steve, ok. I am A-OK fine.” Louis says in a sarcastic kind of way, making an OK sign with one hand.

“You’re not fine. You’re—”

“I said I’m fine.” Louis snaps, serious this time. “Just let me fucking toss back a few.”

“A few what?”

“Bottles, of course.” Louis bursts into a drunken cackle. “What? You thought I was going to say glasses or some shit like that? Pssht…” He blows air out of his mouth, waving his hand in dismissal and tossing his head back. “I’m not a punk…I can hold my liquor like a—” He burps loudly, head swaying as he hiccups. “Aha—like a maaan!”

“I can’t believe you showed up to my office drunk.” Steve sighs incredulously. “ _Really?_ ”

“Steve, I’m asking nicely.” Louis looks to him seriously, or as serious as he can muster right now.

“You’re lucky I like you, Louis.” Steve reminds, shaking his head. “Ok, but you can expect someone at your door tonight to check up on you. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you shouldn’t go at it alone.”

Louis nods silently, slightly appreciative about the concern for his well being while also being slightly annoyed by it.

“Now get out of my hospital before someone sees you looking like utter shit.” Steve shoos him out. “And _please_ don’t come back until you’re feeling better. I have a hospital to run, I can’t have my chief of staff parading around looking like homeless drunkards.”

“Oh don’t worry Steve, I’ll be back to the respectable doctor you love before you know it.”

“Let’s hope so.”

 

||☤||

 

“Dr. Tomlinson, could I speak to you for a moment?”

Louis slows down begrudgingly at the call of his name, mentally calculating how rude it would be if he just bolted the last few yards to the main door without acknowledging the call. Obviously he can’t do that, no matter how much he wants to. And of course it’s just his luck that on his one day to be left alone he can’t even make it out of the hospital doors without running into someone.

Louis turns around only to find Jesse approaching him purposefully. Which is just fantastic news because Louis looks like fucking road kill and is getting increasingly more tipsy as the alcohol he downed in Steve’s office starts hitting his blood stream.

Fantastic.

All he wants is to drink. Drink alone. In peace. Undisturbed. Is that really asking too much? _God_.

Louis self-consciously pulls his hooded jacket over his frame, concealing the massive rum tinted coffee spill down his wrinkled shirt. He schools his face into a reasonably presentable fashion, thanking the high heavens that he already put his sunglasses back on. “Oh. Ummm, look, I’m not really here today so—”

“It’ll only take a moment.” Jesse interrupts determinedly.

Louis is still taking small steps backwards, hoping to finesse some kind of escape. “Well I was just on my way out—”

“Please.” Jesse insists again, nearly crowding Louis’ space with urgency.

Of course Jesse is persistent. Of fucking course. There is little to no chance that Jesse will let whatever he needs to say go, so it looks like Louis is trapped. He definitely needs more liquid courage for this. Why didn’t he bring multiple mini bottles with him? What a fucking mistake.

“Um…yeah, ok sure…I guess.” Louis concedes begrudgingly, pulling his jacket tighter around his body, hands stuffed in the pockets. “What’s up?”

Jesse runs a hand through his dark hair, seeming to debate his words. “Look, I don’t want to accuse you of anything…well because I don’t really know you or the full situation for that matter, but...is there something going on between you and my fiancé?” 

“I’m sorry?” Louis frowns, blinking slowly as he tries not to break out into laughter. That reaction may either be because he’s drunk or the exact reason why he needs to get more drunk.

“It’s just...I see the way he looks at you and how you act around each other and it’s just...”

Jesse is jealous. This man is actually jealous of the nonexistent relationship Louis has with Harry. Priceless.

Louis’ brow furrows even tighter, swaying a bit on his feet. “Just what?”

“Like you have a history…or something. And he won’t talk about it and I don’t want to push him, he’s worried enough about Avery. But…uh yesterday…he came home and…” Jesse trails off, looking down at his feet. “I don’t know…he wasn’t himself? He was distracted and a bit avoidant…and I know you spoke with him yesterday, so I thought that um…”

That drink. That fresh bottle of tequila is calling Louis’ name right now. The longer he engages in this conversation the more appealing alcohol poisoning sounds. He needs to be drunker. And it needs to happen _now_.

“There is nothing going on between us.” Louis declares firmly, looking Jesse dead on, although concealed by his shades. “I was one of the doctors who treated his sister before she died. That’s all. With everything going on with Avery, and me being her doctor as well…it probably triggers old memories for him.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” Jesse nods in consideration, seeming to welcome that answer as the reason.

_what the fuck do you know?_

No wonder they’re together. It makes perfect sense that Harry is with boring, bland Jesse. The guy knows hardly anything about Harry’s past. Or about Harry himself for that matter. So he can’t bring it up. Or bother him. The less Jesse knows, the easier it is for Harry to keep his fiancé at an arm’s length and go on lying to himself and pretending everything is fine. If this man knew anything about Harry, he’d understand how fragile Harry really is, how much hurt and past lost he carries with him from day to day. But Jesse obviously only has a superficial understanding of him. He’s bought into the artificial version of Harry that Harry’s apparently been working so hard to portray.

Jesse is the safe choice—the easy choice. And if that’s what Harry wants for himself, Louis is in no place to stand in his way. 

“Yeah, I mean…I’m sure you know how close he was to his sister.” Louis adds briefly. “It was a really hard time for him.”

“He doesn’t like to talk about her.” Jesse sighs to himself. “I don’t really know how to get him to talk to me.”

“Um…I guess all you can do is be there for him? As best as you can…” Louis offers, trying not to sound purposely bitter or sarcastic in any way. It really is a good thing that Harry has support, no one should have to face this kind of thing alone. But is Jesse even supporting him how he needs? Does he even know what Harry needs? Doubtful.

“Yeah, I just wish I could do more for him, you know?” Jesse sighs, glancing down momentarily. “I hate to see him so upset. He’s such an amazing person, I really love him and I want to marry him, but I just want us to be on the same page. You get that, right?”

Louis internally groans, feeling an eye twitch coming on—once again thank god for the tinted glasses. What did he ever do to be cursed with having to listen to Harry’s lame fiancé profess his undying love for Harry to his face. It’s the worst kind of sickening.

Ten minutes ago, Louis was on a mission to get out of here and get as wasted as humanly possible. But on second thought, maybe there is something he needs to do before he leaves the hospital.


	6. six.

_the beat it knows is destructive_.

||☤||

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2TGn4RZy8Ic&t=0s&index=3&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtjJgq3Yc9P5gv8inM19l99)

He did it.

Ugh, Louis actually did it. He was beyond drunk, nearly out of his mind and he did it. He fucked Michael, the resident from Gastro. Or is it Matthew? Martin? Oh fuck whatever, Louis actually just reduced himself to using a colleague for sex. A _resident_. In a goddamn on-call room no less, like peasants. He always said on-call rooms were made for the undignified, those who couldn’t be assed to bring their sexual endeavors home or at least find a hotel or something, but now Louis is no better. Nine years he’s been working at this hospital and he’s always managed to keep his sex life and work life separate. Until now. Fuck.

What a mistake.

It wasn’t even good sex. Mediocre really. It was dull and passionless, just scratching an itch. An itch that still itches. More like burns at this point. Burns even stronger than it did before. No coping mechanism is working this time. Work failed him. Booze is failing him. And now even sex is useless.

There was a time when meaningless sex was completely appealing for Louis, a momentary escape with no real strings or repercussions attached. But now even knowing that the sex was always meant to have no meaning, he still somehow wanted meaning anyway? He wanted the closeness and the intimacy and the passion and the genuine connection. All Louis wants now is for it to be _real_ , but only with one person in mind. One person he can never have—ugh, what is wrong with him?

Now he’s got some random guy’s head resting on his chest and he hardly remembers even coming here. Plus, his own head is bloody throbbing and he has this weird rampantly hungry, but completely nauseous thing going on and basically everything is awful.

This is not how his day was meant to go. He was supposed to go home and get sloshed. But somehow he is here, in an on-call room, in a tiny bed made for one, with a guy he’s hardly ever spoken to snoozing and practically drooling all over his chest.

Why the hell did he ever let Jesse affect him? Oh yeah, because he was drunk and jealous and not at all thinking clearly.

However, with how gross Louis looked walking into this hospital, the fact that he was still able to pull a guy just proves how capable he is. That is the one and only silver lining to come out of this entire fiasco. Louis isn’t usually one for ego boosts, but right now he _really_ needs one, so he lets himself gloat about how his charm was able to surpass the shittiness of his drunken appearance today.

Carefully Louis slides his body out of the small bed, trying not to disturb Mark? Marley—fuck it. As quickly as possible, he throws himself into his messy clothes, not even bothering with the unkempt sex hair falling over his face. Louis scrambles out of the on-call room, hair utterly disheveled, looking down to adjust the drawstring of his dingy sweatpants as he takes a few steps down the corridor. Walking headfirst into…

“Oh…um…hey, Louis.”

Harry.

Of course Harry. As though the shame must continue and grow in scale. A big, personal, _fuck you_ from the universe.

Louis’ head instantly jerks up, hands frozen on the waistband of his sweats, cheeks flushed. He is painfully aware of how his appearance looks, as he stares like a deer caught in the headlights through his sex mussed fringe. And Harry is looking at him like he _knows_ exactly what Louis was just up to, giving him a head-to-toe once over glance.

Louis is just about to attempt to address Harry when he hears the door he just came out of open behind him. Louis winces, closing his eyes to brace himself for further shame.

“Lo—Dr. Tomlinson, thanks so much for the… _consult_.” The guy comes up behind him and touches a suggestive hand to Louis’ waist, trailing his fingers suggestively down his side. And in that very moment Louis literally wants to die, feeling Harry’s eyes boring into him. “You’re amazing. We should _definitely_ have a follow up sometime.”

Michael or Matthew or whatever the fuck his name really is, is trying to make this little ordeal look like it’s something else, something more professional and justified, but it’s painfully obvious to everyone what this really was. A sad, dirty, on-call room hook up.

_fuck._

“Oh uh…” Louis offers him a pained smile, silently willing himself to disappear into thin air. He wishes the earth would split open and swallow him whole right now. This is absolutely mortifying. Louis is pretty sure he is the brightest possible shade of red imaginable. Why didn’t he just go home? Why isn’t he passed out from an alcohol induced coma in his bed or even in his car or better yet, a ditch on the side of the road? The sex was definitely not worth this level of humiliation. “…Right.”

The resident, whose name may or may not begin with the letter M, gives Louis another quick squeeze to the waist, accompanied by a meaningful, drawn out wink before he begins to retreat down the hall. Leaving Louis to deal with the aftershocks of the bomb he just dropped in front of Harry.

_fuuucckkkk._

“So…are you two…” Harry flicks his eyes at Louis and the closed on-call room door, his unfinished question obvious in its intention.  

“Erm…uhh…ehh…” Louis tilts his head, scrunching up his face a bit as he drags out his ponderings. At first Louis wants to deny it, quickly dismiss the encounter as actually being a medical consult filled with only professional discussion and medicine and education and very important surgical things and blah blah blah. Until he recognizes that spark of jealously on Harry’s face, that peak of unsatisfied interest and envious curiosity creased along his features and with that Louis decides to turn his shame around. He holds his head up indignantly, narrowing his eyes pointedly at Harry. “Yes. Yes, we are—I’m fucking him, yes. Or he is fucking me…um— _we_ are fucking.”

Harry’s eyes widen in total surprise of the brashness of Louis’ statement, mouth falling open slightly. He looks even a bit hurt by the words, something unfamiliar flashing across his features.

 _Good_. Louis thinks, now Harry can finally experience what it feels like to watch him schlepping around with his perfectly lame, cookie-cutter fiancé all the goddamn time. Harry has absolutely no right to be hurt about this, actually he has no right to any opinion whatsoever on Louis’ sexual endeavors.

Louis adjusts his fringe, standing up a little straighter as he adjusts his hoodie over his shoulders. “Do you have a problem with that?” He raises his eyebrows in question.

“No…uh—no, not at all. _No_.” Harry shakes his head repeatedly, stumbling over his words as he struggles to casually stuff his hands in his jean pockets. “Uh…fuck away...” He offers an encouraging smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Right then.” Louis nods, shoving his own hands into the pockets of his hoodie.  

“Well, I was just um...looking for a…uh restroom…” Harry squints his eyes awkwardly, looking around as though he is currently still in search mode.

“Oh, three doors down on your right.” Louis offers helpfully, wondering why the hell Harry doesn’t know where the fucking loo is by now. He is no stranger to the layout of this hospital at this point.

Harry scratches the back of his neck cumbersomely. “Erm…thanks.”

They stand there for a few seconds, avoiding eye contact, but still unable to properly exit the conversation. The energy between them is so odd and charged and Louis feels like he is choking.

“ _Well_ …excuse me.” Louis pipes up suddenly, shaking himself out as he starts to walk away from the situation. Ready to fly the fuck out of this hospital.

If Louis has learned anything from this mortifying experience it’s that he should never _ever_ get drunk before noon and sleep with a random person in an on-call room due to crippling jealousy. Because apparently it will always come back to bite him in the ass.

 

||✚||

 

It’s been several lingering hours since his run in with Louis and yet Harry’s mind still hasn’t been able to let it go. Flashes of Louis and his ruffled caramel tinted hair and perfectly flushed cheeks and long, fanned out eyelashes, traipse through Harry’s thoughts unwarranted. But it’s not just how Louis looked that has Harry upwardly flustered, it’s what Louis was allegedly doing.

Harry doesn’t understand it, but for some reason the simple idea of Louis with someone else bothers him so much—so _fucking_ much. Just the sheer notion of someone else’s hands touching him, pleasing him, holding him— _angers_ Harry, when it shouldn’t have any tangible effect on him whatsoever.

It shouldn’t.

Louis is a grown man, he can live his life however he pleases. And Harry has a fiancé, a fiancé who he loves. He loves Jesse, he does, he loves him, he _loves_ him. Jesse is a good man, a _great_ man and they are happy and completely in love and as soon as Avery is completely out of the woods, they’ll get married and it will all be great.

Great. 

Harry loves Jesse and it’s great, everything is great.

 _Great_.

_i love my fiancé, i love him, we’re in love_

—But.

There’s an understated _but_ trailing through Harry’s thoughts, invading his welcomed ideals, pestering him incessantly, causing him to question what he thought was irrevocably true all this time. Harry doesn’t at all understand why he feels the way he does, but all he knows is that if he fucking uses the word _great_ to describe his relationship with Jesse one more time, he’s going to go mad.

But, it’s just that Louis…

Louis is… _Louis._ An obvious catch. Harry knows this—actually he is painfully aware of this. For one thing, Louis is absolutely brilliant, not just in the sense that he’s a doctor, which obviously takes a vast amount of intellect. No, Louis isn’t just brilliant, he’s cunning—clever and charming and impossibly quick witted. He’s totally unpredictable, which is infuriating for Harry because he can never predict what’s going to come out of Louis’ mouth next, which never fails to draw Harry in even more.

And he’s so beautiful, physically stunning in every way. The effects of time seem to have only caused him to grow more gorgeous and it’s stupidly unfair. Harry has always been madly attracted to Louis from the start, that he is willing to admit to himself. It’d be downright stupid not to, he’s not blind. But that was _then_ —practically a different life that feels eons away from right now. Harry isn’t the same person he was before and neither is Louis.

_but his blue eyes are just as bright as before…and his lips look just as soft as before…and his smell is just as sinfully intoxicating as before…and…_

Harry registers the sound of the front door opening and he shakes his head to rid himself of his wandering thoughts. But his body seems to not be as willing to clear those very same thoughts, and Harry is horrified to find himself half hard in his jeans. He quickly palms his crotch twice, just hoping to get whatever interest his dick has drudged up to subside, right as Jesse walks into the living room.

“Jesse! Babe, I’m so glad you’re home.” Harry jumps up and throws his arms around his fiancé’s neck, pressing their lips together instantly. “I missed you all day.” He murmurs against Jesse’s mouth. Harry tries to deepen the kiss in desperation, doing all he can to force his mind to concentrate on his fiancé and _only_ his fiancé—that he loves. Hoping that he can morph hauntingly beautiful blue eyes into the man he loves’ gentle grey ones. But before Harry can even get there, Jesse breaks away from the kiss.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jesse frowns at him in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“What? Nothing’s wrong?” Harry laughs off nervously, fingers toying with the hair at the back of Jesse’s neck. “Nothing…” He leans in again to kiss him, holding Jesse’s head steady with both of his hands. As wrong as it is, Harry will never admit the fact that deep down he might be using Jesse for sex as a distraction right now. But his intentions aren’t all wrong—is it really so wrong for him to just want his fiancé to make love to him?

“Harry.” Jesse pulls back again, looking at him oddly. “You’re acting…weird...”

“I’m not acting weird…I’m not—I’m just really happy to see you, Jes.” Harry smiles softly as he pushes Jesse backwards, forcing him to sit down on the living room couch. Harry shimmies out of his skinny jeans and drops himself down to straddle his fiancé’s hips. He even takes it a step further and strips himself of his t-shirt as well, leaving his body only clothed by thin boxers. “I just thought that we haven’t had any time together alone in a long time and I’ve been thinking about our talk the other day and I’m really sorry for pushing you away.”

“Ok, I forgive you. It’s fine. You don’t have to—”

“But I want to…I love you…” Harry kisses behind Jesse’s ear, nipping at his earlobe. “And with everything happening, we haven’t had time for us lately and I wanted to make it up to you. Let me make it up to you…”

Jesse continues to lean away from Harry’s touch. “I’m really tired, ok? Maybe later.”

“Please Jes, just really quick—I need you...” Harry grinds his hips down against Jesse’s lap as he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“Harry, seriously stop.” Jesse brushes Harry’s hands from his exposed chest, meeting his eyes.

Harry sits back, hands dropped at his sides as he stares at Jesse for a long moment, feeling a bit hurt by the rejection. “I’m practically naked for you right now…”

“Yeah, I know…” Jesse sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just not really in the mood right now, ok?”

“You know what? Fine. Whatever. Never mind.” Harry grumbles bitterly as he hops off Jesse’s lap, scrambling off the couch. It is never a good feeling to be rejected and unwanted by the man who is supposed to be the love of his life.

“Don’t be mad.” Jesse calls after him, still sitting on the couch.

Too late, he’s already fucking mad. Plus, he hates when Jesse says that, _don’t be mad—_ as if Harry can somehow control his reactions to things that clearly piss him off. Harry waves Jesse off without bothering to turn around. All he wanted was a quick, easy fuck from his fiancé to clear his head. He wasn’t asking for passion, he wasn’t asking for romance, he really wasn’t asking for all that much.

Harry decides to take a shower to cool off and the entire time he tries to keep his mind as blank as possible. He forces himself not to recall memories of sharp, flushed cheekbones and softly mussed caramel hair and the bluest blown out eyes he’s ever seen.

 

||☤||

 

After two thiamine loaded banana bags pumped into Louis’ veins courtesy of Zayn, a much needed shower, and a long six-hour nap to sleep it off, Louis is finally completely sober and levelheaded once again. Well, maybe not so levelheaded, but he is definitely sober, so that’s a plus.

But being sober means his reality has made itself infinitely present in his mind and now he’s overthinking just about everything, mainly his life choices over the past 48 hours. Louis is hoping that his next surgery will drown out some of the noise and get his head back in the game, but it’s not exactly looking so good and he kind of just wants a bit of company right about now.

He is sitting in one of the spinning chairs behind the nurse’s station, essentially making himself dizzy and wasting time all at once. Louis’ intention when he first sat down in this chair, was to log onto the computer and finalize his surgery schedule and intended O.R. time for next week. Something he’s been meaning to do all day, especially after Steve sent out several emails about it this morning to all the attendings.

Louis completes a full rotation in his chair just as Niall breezes past the station, preoccupied by his phone.

“Niall!” Louis calls, jumping out of his seat so fast, he nearly gives himself whiplash.

Niall pauses and looks over his shoulder, smiling once he spots Louis behind the counter. “Oh, hey Lou. Didn’t see you back there. What’s up, you good?”

“I’m alright, yeah…I’m good. Sure.” Louis nods a bit. “How are you? Busy?”

Niall glances back down at his phone. “Um sorta, yeah…why?”

“Any chance you’ll scrub in with me in an hour?”

“Is it a kid?” Niall asks, looking up.

“Well…no…” Louis answers slowly.

“Is it a really cool case?”

“Um…define really cool?” Louis tries, knowing good and well his upcoming surgery is about as routine and typical as they come. His patient has a spinal cord arteriovenous malformation, which is not nearly as exciting as it sounds because it’s really just a long way of saying an aneurysm located in the spine.

Niall gives him a knowing look, that practically screams unimpressed.  

“Please, I’ll let you be the sucker.” Louis offers with a winning smile.

“What? _Let_ me?” Niall starts to laugh.

“You know…suction.” Louis clarifies briefly, making an unnecessary sucking sound as an imitation of what the apparatus sounds like to his ears. 

Niall only cackles harder, shaking his head. “Obviously, I know what you meant, I am a surgeon too you know. And as much fun as it would be to stand by your side and suck away excess blood and bodily fluids, I’m gonna have to say no, bud. I’ve got a full day today. Try Zayn.”

Niall tips his head towards Zayn, before continuing off to wherever he is in such a hurry to get to.

“Ooh! Zayn!” Louis jumps up when he spots him rounding the hall. “Wanna scrub in with me?”

“Why would I ever want to spend my morning watching you clip aneurysms?” Zayn frowns, slurping on his usual almond milk latte. “I’ve got real work to do.”

Louis pouts, a little bothered that Zayn reduced his multifaceted specialty down to just aneurysm clipping. Yeah, it happens to be true for his current case, but why is that always the default? He does really fucking cool and complex procedures all the time.

“Oh, like what? Is it a boob job or a butt lift today?” Louis quips back, since they’re playing up stereotypes.

“Neither, actually. I’m fixing a 3-year-old’s cleft palate pro bono.” Zayn informs him proudly. “Not everything in Plastics is shallow, ok?”

“And not everything in Neuro is aneurysms.” Louis defends.

“Ok so, what’s on the docket for today, Dr. Tomlinson?” Zayn purposely tests, straw between his teeth as he blinks at Louis expectantly.

“…spinal aneurysm…” Louis mumbles under his breath begrudgingly, rolling his eyes.

“What was that?” Zayn teases, cupping a hand to his ear. “Did you say that you, a neurosurgeon, are treating an _aneurysm_? Well, color me shocked.”

Louis narrows his eyes, but can hardly keep a straight face. “You’re such a smartass.”

“Takes one to know one.” Zayn says back with a smirk, starting to walk away. “Call me when you have a big boy surgery.”

Louis laughs, shaking his head fondly. He plops back down in his spinning chair. “Well that doesn’t quite help me right now.”

“Honestly, your best bet is Liam.” Zayn advises over his shoulder as he continues on down the hallway, coincidentally the same hallway that Liam is coming out of. They talk for a few minutes, Liam laughing heartily over something Zayn whispers as he leans into him. When they break apart, they each continue on their separate ways, Liam heading towards the station.

“Liammmm!” Louis calls, throwing his head back as he continues to spin in his chair.

“Louissss!” Liam mocks in the same tone of voice, sporting a teasing smile.

Louis lifts his head, grinning. “You wanna join me for surgery? Please say yes.” He pouts, internally wondering if he is willing to start begging or not. 

“Oh? Do you need me?” Liam wonders, leaning over the counter.

“No…not exactly, I just want some company...” Louis admits slowly.

“Why don’t you drag in a resident or an intern? They’d love that!” Liam suggests helpfully, even though it’s not actually all that helpful in Louis’ case. “It’s a great learning opportunity for them.”

“I don’t really feel like teaching—I just want someone to talk to you, you know what I mean?”

“The residents make lovely company, you’d be surprised.” Liam informs from clearly personal experience. “I know they are inexperienced and sometimes annoying and everything, but some of them are actually cool people and—”

“I’m feeling vulnerable!” Louis blurts honestly, interrupting Liam with his sudden word vomit. He sighs heavily, running an exasperated hand through his hair. “Erm…I mean I—you told me not to close myself off again emotionally, so I’m trying not to do that…but I did something really stupid—or I think I did? It feels like I did…I don’t know. But I need to talk about it…I think...”

Liam rounds the counter to sit down in a free chair next to Louis. “Ooh Lou, are you doing ok? Did something else happen?” Liam coddles, attitude shifting entirely as he slings an arm around Louis protectively, switching right into mothering mode. He really is an amazing and compassionate friend. He’s always there to offer a listening ear when Louis needs it and Louis is so appreciative of that. “You know what? Ok. I’ll scrub in with you and we can talk all about whatever it is that’s bothering you. Just page me when you’re ready, I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Li.”

 

||☤||

 

 

“Alright, so since I already know where this is probably headed, let’s just get right to it.” Liam decides once they’re completely settled into surgery. He mans the suction, standing opposite Louis along the operating table where a section of the patient’s spine has been exposed, both of them peering through a microscope. “How’s it going with Ha—”

“Dr. Payne!” Louis hisses, immediately interrupting him and briefly glancing around the O.R. He doesn’t need his hospital staff to know all of his personal business. Yes, Louis wants to talk about it, but not in such a blatantly obvious way.

Liam looks away from the scope and up at Louis in confusion, eyebrows furrowed above his surgical mask. “Erm. So…”

“So…yes— _well_ … I may have done a bit of an unwise thing…” Louis starts slowly, trying to figure out how they can talk about this without the whole O.R. knowing explicitly what they are talking about.

“Ok…” Liam once again eyes Louis curiously over the top of his scrub mask.

“Um…so I decided to try out a new erm…hobby…like you suggested…” Louis says casually as he makes a clean incision along the spinal dura to expose the aneurysm.

“A new hobby?” Liam carefully applies suction before Louis need even ask, the benefit of having a seasoned attending assist him instead of a learning resident.

“Yes. Remember? You and Zayn suggested that I try a brand new _hobby_.” Louis stresses, meeting Liam’s eyes and hoping that he somehow gets it.

“Ooh! Right, right! Got it. Ok. So…like…you _fully_ embraced this new hobby?” Liam wonders with raised eyebrows. Somehow even with a mask over his face, Louis can still see the dumb grin on Liam’s face from sneakily talking about sex in the operating room.

“Yes. We—or um…I got down with a new hobby.” Louis confirms, rolling his eyes a bit as he successfully obtains control of the blood flow to and from the aneurysm, careful not to let it rupture.

“Well…ok…and did this new hobby…um help?” Liam tries, keeping the surgical field free of any excess blood. “I mean—help you forget about the…erm old hobby?”

Louis can tell that the surgical staff are all desperately confused, but they keep pretending to mind their own business anyway, dutifully going about their jobs around the O.R.

“Um…probably not my favorite hobby to be honest. Like barely a 4.5/10 on the…erm hobby scale.” Louis decides slowly with disdain. “That’s actually generous, I’m leaning towards a flat out 3/10. Eh...2.”

“Damn. Really? That bad?” Liam wonders in surprise. “Huh…had so much promise, that one...”

“I would have rather taken up knitting.” Louis tells him flatly, while also trying to decide what size coil clip he should use.

“You’d be good at knitting.” Liam laughs, eyes trained through the microscope.

“I would, yeah? I’ve got the hands for it and everything.” Louis laughs along lightly. “Knitting will be my next and only hobby, I’m swearing off everything else.”

Liam chuckles behind his mask. “Ok, but I don’t see what was so unwise about having a go at that hobby. By that I mean the hobby we were initially talking about—not knitting, besides the fact that it apparently sucked.”

“Right, I’m getting to that part.” Louis answers, looking back down at his surgical field, before turning to his scrub nurse. “May I get an 8.3 short please?”

The nurse already had a range of potential titanium clips spread out and ready to go, easily handing Louis the one he needs, to which he thanks her.

“Ok, so anyway…when I was, you know—wrapping it up with my new hobby, the old hobby—that was never really a hobby of mine, made an appearance…” Louis explains, holding the clip open with the applier.

“Wait?” Liam pauses, putting the pieces together. “Ooh… _oh!”_

 _“Yes_.” Louis widens his eyes pointedly over his surgical mask. “Liam, my god. It was hell on earth. I’ve never been more mortified in my whole entire life.”

“You poor soul.” Liam empathizes genuinely. “Well…what happened?”

“Nothing happened? I mean I almost melted into a puddle of pure shame and regret but…I don’t know it’s just so… weird, you know? It feels uncomfortable on so many levels.” Louis sighs, carefully inserting the clip on the neck of the aneurysm, watching it effectively cut off the parent artery. “This is gonna sound weird but…I—ok, I know we were never a thing but…it felt a lot like betrayal? Like his face was so…”

“Jealous.” Liam finishes, nodding his head.

“Yeah…exactly. But he has no right to be. None, whatsoever. He has a fia—his own hobby.” Louis corrects, attempting to keep up the pretext, but it’s essentially pointless now. “But yet…I dunno it’s weird. Weird is my favorite word for my life right now, by the way.”

“Weird?” Liam echoes.

“Weird.”  Louis confirms with another sigh, purposely puncturing the dome of the aneurysm to drain out the blood, which Liam sucks away automatically to clear the field. “Anyway, I don’t know if anything will really help me completely forget…the old hobby. I thought telling the truth about it would help, you know? Putting it all out there or whatever. But he just—it just got worse. I think about him all the time and when I’m finally not thinking about him, he shows up out of nowhere—he’s fucking _everywhere_!” Louis pauses to clear his throat to regain some form of composure. “Ugh…and I hate it because I just want to move on with a new hobby. Not _that_ new hobby specifically, but…you know…just a new one.”

“You should talk.” Liam suggests simply as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“No? Again? I can’t?” Louis watches the clip’s placement closely, ensuring that a second clip won’t be needed to support the parent artery long term.

“You can and you need to. Just at the very least, clear the air, you know?” Liam offers. “The last time you spoke, it was all emotions and anger that you had to get out, which is good, but maybe you need to have a normal adult conversation now.”

“We did that…at the coffee shop.”

“But that wasn’t real. You both were pretending.” Liam reminds knowingly. “I mean a _real_ honest conversation.”

Louis sighs, dreading the thought of ever having an open and honest conversation with Harry. It sounds disastrous. But maybe Liam has a point, maybe it is what he needs.

“Thank you for filling in as my therapist, Dr. Payne.” Louis says a bit begrudgingly, only because he knows Liam is most likely right, as usual. “And my sucker.”

“Always delighted to be at your service, Dr. Tomlinson.”

 

||✚||

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HP9IJgdNIkA&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtjJgq3Yc9P5gv8inM19l99&index=3)

There are many impossible things in this life. Things that can only ever be impossible due to the vast limitations of order and theoretic law that balance and govern the earth. Like being in two separate physical spaces at the same time or having the ability to travel through time and space at will or manipulating physical entities and matter only by thinking about it and the list goes on and on.

But for Harry, although it may seem like a reasonably possible task, the most impossible thing for him to do right now is get Louis out of his head. Because no matter what he does, or how he tries, all his mind wants to do is think about any and all things _Louis_.

And it definitely doesn’t help that Louis seems to be the only thing Avery wants to talk about these days. Just on the ride to the hospital alone, Avery mentioned Louis’ name more times than Harry could count, somehow working him into any conversation. Harry is happy that his daughter is excited about her new friend and there’s nothing intrinsically wrong with Avery having another adult role model to look up to, but it’s all so fucking complicated and Harry wants to scream.

“Um Harry?”

Harry lifts his head from the book he’d zoned out of reading thirty minutes ago, gaze coming to focus on those same familiar blue eyes standing before him. The ones Harry can’t help but see every time he closes his own at night.

Louis stands a good distance away, but close enough to still be heard directly. “I hope I’m not disturbing you or anything…um if you’re busy or something—I can just say it later or—”

“I’m not particularly busy…” Harry shrugs easily, although if Louis is planning on yelling at him again, Harry would rather not deal with that right now while waiting for his daughter’s scans to be complete. For obvious reasons, he’s still not over the last time and he’s not quite interested in stirring up a fresh wave of tears in the waiting room.

“Ok... well I just wanted to apologize for what I said in the parking lot.” Louis starts gradually, shifting on his feet. “Not so much what I said, but how I said it. I uh…well I have a lot of…mixed emotions towards you—mostly anger, but erm regardless of that…I shouldn’t have yelled…so, I’m sorry.”

Harry can only sit and listen, eyes locked with Louis’. Ever since he heard Louis say that he once loved him, Harry hasn’t been able to get past all that it could have meant for them. His words sparked a disturbance, a heavy and guilty disturbance laden deep within his conscience and now he exists in a constant state of unease.

“And I’m also sorry for uh…the other day…” Louis breaks eye contact, looking down at his feet as he eludes to their unexpected run in by the on-call room.

“It’s fine, Louis.” Harry finally gets himself to speak, brushing off the apology immediately and willing his brain not to delve up the imagery of a very hot and bothered Louis once again. Harry is _engaged_ for fucks sake and whatever jealous feeling he had towards Louis has absolutely no merit or place in his life right now, so he is actively choosing to no longer entertain the idea. “It’s none of my business anyway. And like you said, I’m just the parent of your patient.”

“Yes, right—true.” Louis nods succinctly, reestablishing eye contact for a moment. “But still…I shouldn’t have been so…uh…brash. I apologize. It was rude of me and—”

“Consider it forgotten.” Harry interrupts with his own conclusive nod, trying for what he hopes resembles a smile. Although he knows good and well that he will not be forgetting any of that any time soon.  

“Ok...um…” Louis nods slowly, and he looks like he is about to say more, maybe ask another question, but his words are cut short as Jesse rounds the corner, walking into the waiting room to meet up with Harry.

“Dr. Tomlinson.” Jesse nods to Louis briefly, seeming a bit put off by his presence alone with Harry.

“Jesse.” Louis acknowledges in just as clipped of a tone, offering a tightlipped grin.

“Hey Jes.” Harry smiles intensely, standing to his feet and grabbing Jesse by the ass as he pulls him in for an unnecessarily long kiss. And if Harry makes it blatantly extra because Louis watching, he certainly will not admit to it.

“You’re happy to see me.” Jesse grins against Harry’s lips, pulling their bodies flush against each other.

“Always.” Harry reconnects their mouths, turning the greeting kiss into an all out make out session, complete with little satisfied moans, and groping. _Too much_ groping.

Louis coughs in an attempt to remind the couple that he is still there, clearing his throat several times until Harry and Jesse reluctantly pull apart.

“Well…um…I’ve got to…you know…” Louis points vaguely down the hall, taking a few steps backwards as he excuses himself. “I’ll see you both in a few with Dr. Horan…”

Harry finds himself staring after Louis as he walks away, somehow finding him much more interesting than the affections of his fiancé. In fact, he hardly registers the sound of Jesse calling his name repeatedly.

“Harry, hey…Harry? Babe? Hello?” Jesse calls, tugging at Harry’s waist.

“Huh? What—sorry.” Harry snaps his head back to look at Jesse, tearing his gaze from Louis disappearing around the corner. “Yeah Jes, I’m listening.”

Jesse sighs a little in agitation as he follows where Harry’s gaze was so drawn to. “I was saying that I can’t stay for Avery’s appointment.”

At that Harry really starts paying attention, focusing completely on Jesse. “What? You just got here.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s uh…it’s a work thing.

“But you promised me that you would come this time.” Harry reminds, feeling himself getting increasingly annoyed.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Jesse apologizes, taking one of Harry’s hands.

“You know how much I hate doing this alone. What kind of work thing is it, can’t you get out of it?”

“It’s just a work thing...you know…the usual.” Jesse tells him, tracing his thumb along Harry’s wrist. “But I can’t get out of it, I tried. I’m sorry, Harry.”

“Jesse, I feel like…” Harry sighs, debating with himself on whether to bring up this conversation now or hold it in.

“Feel like what?”

“I get that you have to go to work and that it’s been really busy between us lately but..” Harry bites on his inner cheek. “I just…I feel like…”

“Can we talk about this later, babe?” Jesse interrupts, distracted by the incoming messages on his phone. “I really can’t stay.”

“Yeah…ok…” Harry dismisses, shrugging.

Jesse leans in to lightly peck his lips. “See you at home tonight, ok?”

“Mhmm.”

“Love you.” Jesse presses another quick closed mouth kiss to his lips in farewell.

 

||☤||

 

So that was fucking disastrous—as expected, but still. All Louis wanted to do is strike up a real conversation with Harry and instead he got a front row seat to watch Harry feel up his fiancé. Not exactly how he was expecting the conversation to go, but nonetheless, Louis has decided to let it all go in finality. So he may not ever get closure with Harry? Oh well, life goes on.

Or maybe it doesn’t. But whatever. He has spent enough days and far too many nights laboring over this bullshit. And he can no longer mentally or physically sustain the heavy tax to his body, it’s consuming him. Louis needs to do what’s best for him and right now that means letting it go as best he can.

Avery is finishing up her last round of chemotherapy this week and her final diagnostic checkup has already been scheduled, which means that in about a week’s time, Louis will hardly ever have to see Harry anymore. And maybe soon after, he can finally start to breathe again. Better yet, it’s all right in time for the holidays.

Speaking of the holidays, the gift shop has magically turned into Christmas on steroids, the entire store drenched in so much tinsel and garland, it nearly covers every available surface. Louis only knows this because he finds himself walking right into the store, needing some sort of vice to finish out the rest of his day. And the only suitable thing posing the least amount of potential threat and impending disaster at this point are Skittles.

“Back again, Dr. T?” Carrie smiles from behind the register. “I swear you were just in here this morning.”

“Must we go through this every time I come in here?” Louis teases lightly, matching her smile.

“Yes, because you’re buying up our entire inventory of Skittles.” Carrie informs him.

“They give me energy, ok? Please don’t expose me.” Louis tries to defend. “I thought we had an understanding, Carrie. I thought we were _friends_! Just let me get my candy fix in peace.”

Carrie giggles. “What would be the fun in that?”

“You know what? I’m gonna start buying in bulk just to avoid you.” Louis decides. “I’ll buy a whole box and ration it out.”

“I’m pretty sure you’d eat them all in one day and be back again by the morning.” Carrie replies knowingly and he can’t truthfully say that she’s wrong.

“You make a valid point.” Louis narrows his eyes, but still ends up grinning. “I suppose I’ll just browse the store and meditate on that for a moment while I also pretend like I didn’t just come in here for Skittles.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.” Carrie smiles warmly.

Louis laughs a little as he meanders deeper into the store. There’s more things in here than most people would expect for a little store in a hospital. It’s essentially a last minute, eleventh-hour shopper’s dream, which isn’t at all surprising because most people who work here can’t always find the time to shop for Christmas gifts after working multiple shifts. This way they can do a bit of shopping whenever there’s a free moment, breaking the monotony of strictly online shopping for everything.

He picks out two Skittles flavors, Mixed Berry and Original this time, and then makes his way over to the book and magazine section of the store, nearing the register once again. As Louis approaches, he notices a mother struggling to manage three little wildly rowdy boys and a crying baby in the stroller. She looks completely overwhelmed and dreadfully tired, like she’s only about four seconds from having a total break down in the midst of the store. From the looks of it, they must have been at the hospital for a while and she’s running out of ways to entertain her rambunctious children, hence the dire need for all the toys, coloring books, snacks and various things to hopefully occupy them that much longer.

She oddly reminds him of his own mother years ago, trying to balance four little girls and all their many, _many_ personalities and incredibly lively temperaments. A ghost of a smile passes softly over Louis’ features at the simple memory. He hasn’t properly allowed himself to think fondly of such things in years, hardly able to feel past the tremendous heaviness of his memories towards the end. It’s oh so rare for anyone or anything to get him to think anywhere near positive, let alone fond when it comes to remembering his past, remembering his beautiful family as they once were. It almost makes the truth bearable. _Almost_. 

The woman is struggling to find her wallet in her huge purse, probably filled with anything she could possibly need for her kids at any given time. But her boys are still being boys, attempting to wreak havoc on the store, running around, touching everything, asking unceasingly curious questions, all the while her youngest child continues to scream and cry from the stroller. The line of people waiting behind her to check out starts to grow in length, and the mother’s level of exhaustion only seems to grow with it, looking physically overwhelmed as she tries handle it all on her own.

Louis’ heart goes out to her, which prompts him with the sudden urge to help and before he knows it, he’s at her side at the register. “Here, let me pay for it.” 

“What?” She questions, both looking and sounding impossibly stunned. Her hand stills in her purse as she looks to Louis as though she must have misheard him.

“Yeah, I got it. Don’t worry about it.” Louis shrugs easily, the total coming to a little more than one hundred and twenty dollars.

The young mother starts to shake her head. “You don’t have to—I’m sorry for holding up the line…I’m just…I…”

“Don’t apologize, it’s ok. It’s ok.” Louis reassures gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s not easy having a handful of kids this age. I get it, I came from a big family and I saw the exact same expression on my mother’s face countless times...let me help you.”

She looks like she might cry at any moment, looking to Louis incredulously, mouth agape.

“Really love, I insist. It’s no problem at all. Too be honest with you, I hardly ever use my badge on anything except for candy. It’d be nice to finally put it to good use.” Louis laughs a bit at his own expense, offering her a smile. As a doctor, his monthly payroll deduction on his badge has a pretty high maximum limit to spend in either the cafeteria or the gift shop and Louis rarely hits his limit. There’s only so many Skittles packets one man can consume in a month.

Louis offers his ID badge to Carrie over the counter. “Just put it on my tab, Carrie. Oh! And don’t forget to add my Skittles to that, cuz I really do want these.”

Carrie seems almost as surprised as the mother still staring at Louis, but she does as requested, scanning the packets of candy along with Louis’ badge. “You’re all good to go.”

“I don’t know what to say...” The mother whispers in genuine shock. “I...you didn’t have to…”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to—really, it’s alright. Let’s just call it holiday spirit or something.” Louis smiles easily to reassure her. He always did adore Christmas, finding something so warm and special about it.  

The woman surprises him with a tight hug, fully wrapping her arms around him, obviously touched by his gesture. “Thank you.”

“Of course, of course.” Louis hugs her back, until his pager starts going off. “Oh, that’s me—I gotta run. But I hope you and your family have a very lovely holiday.”

She offers him the brightest smile in return. “I wish the same and more for you and your family.”

Louis falters only marginally, slowly transitioning into a small smile regardless of the fact that he doesn’t have any family to share the season with and he hasn’t since he was a kid. But there’s no need to dwell on that right now, so Louis widens his smile, before moving to dash out of the shop to answer his impending page. “Merry Christmas.”

 

||✚||

 

Harry is lounging in bed, messing around on his work computer with a huge ad campaign he is supposed to present to Adam in a few months. But he’s hardly getting anything done, instead anxiously waiting for his fiancé to get home. Since work isn’t quite cutting it, Harry tries to occupy his mind and time with a little online retail therapy. Christmas is in less than two weeks and he’s hardly had the time to properly prepare for it this year.

Which is utterly disheartening because Harry has always _loved_ Christmas. Every single thing about it from the warm, comforting scent of fresh pine to the twinkling festive lights to the fattening food he can’t ever seem to resist. There’s something purely magical about Christmas time that never fails to lift his spirits.

And the only person who loves Christmas as much as Harry is Avery. The two of them are quite the pair when it comes to the holidays, going all out with matching Christmas sweaters, glittery elf hats, ridiculous themed onesies and candy cane fuzzy socks. They never get sick of a single one of their little holiday traditions, like binging classic Christmas movies or going Christmas caroling or baking more Rudolph shaped cookies than either of them can reasonably eat by themselves.

But aside from the usual holiday activities, what Harry and Avery love the absolute most about Christmas is giving back. Every single year, they set aside a special day where the two of them go out shopping together and pick out a bunch of different toys and clothes.  Then they wrap them up as pretty and as Christmassy as possible to personally donate to group homes and foster kids. Along with gifts, they always bring an assortment of carefully decorated sugar cookies and an abundance of candy canes, while of course being festively dressed in matching Santa hats. Avery and Harry always agreed that those kids deserve a wonderful Christmas too even if they don’t necessarily have a family to give them one. It’s something that’s incredibly close to Harry’s heart considering his own childhood, and it’s probably the one thing from his past that he’s found a positive way to share with with his daughter.

All in all, it’s safe to say that Christmas is everything in their household, the only problem is that Jesse hates Christmas.

Well, he doesn’t _hate_ it, but he definitely doesn’t care for it all that much, calling it just another pointless commercial holiday. He doesn’t like gift giving, he despises crowds, he repeatedly says that the colors red and green don’t go together and he definitely does not seem to understand the real reason for the season. Jesse won’t stop Harry of course, but he won’t really participate or get invested.

Harry gets it—sort of, not everyone loves Christmas like he does, that’s fine, but Jesse is essentially some kind of Scrooge or maybe a Grinch. That’s what Harry calls him at least, even though Jesse hates when he says it. Harry thought that maybe Jesse would eventually warm up to the holiday, but they’ve spent three Christmases together already and unfortunately he hasn’t budged one bit on his stance.

But this year, after everything Avery went through, Harry really wants to give her a memorable Christmas and it would be nice to have his fiancé’s complete participation for once. It’s her very first Christmas in Seattle, a new house, a new neighboring community and they’ll have to adjust their traditions to fit and all Harry wants is for it to all go well. All he wants is to see his little Avie smile.

Jesse walks into their bedroom just as Harry is finalizing his shopping cart, dropping his briefcase by the walk-in closet before stripping himself of his blazer.

“I didn’t think you’d still be awake.” Jesse says in surprise, loosening his tie.

“I was waiting for you.” Harry admits, closing his MacBook and setting it aside on the bedside table.

Jesse crosses the room and drops down on the bed, crawling over to Harry’s side in order to greet him properly with a kiss. “And here I am.”

“Yeah…” Harry smiles a little, one hand held to the side of Jesse’s face. For whatever reason, he feels so… _strange_. It’s not an emotion or a sensation he can exactly quantify, but it’s perceptible regardless, manifesting in the pit of his stomach and growing more uncomfortable by the minute. “So…Jesse, I was thinking and maybe we could do something different for Christmas this year? Something special…”

Jesse promptly breaks away and rolls backwards on the bed with a groan.

“Just hear me out, ok?” Harry tries regardless of Jesse’s obvious disinterest. “For Avie’s sake, she’s had a hard year…she really needs this. Maybe if she’s feeling up to it, we could take her on a trip? She told me how she misses Disneyland…the lights are always so pretty at Christmas time and there’s a big parade with fake snow, which is really cute…Oh! And there’s a holiday fireworks show at night with all the characters and I think she’d love it…”

“Whatever you want, Harry.” Jesse sighs heavily as though his fiancé just gave him a death sentence.

Harry frowns, propping his head up on his side as he leans in a bit closer. “I want you to be involved and surprise her with me.”

“You know I don’t see the point of Christmas.” Jesse reminds, as if Harry could have forgotten.

“Yes, I do know...” Harry takes Jesse’s hand, linking their fingers together. He brings their joined hands up to his lips. “But I’m asking you to put that aside this year for me.”

Jesse only sighs again and truthfully Harry has never felt less supported.

Harry rolls his eyes irritably, sitting up on the bed and dropping Jesse’s hand. “This is exactly what I was talking about earlier.”

“What?” Jesse follows suit and rights himself, frowning at a loss.

“This!” Harry motions rapidly between himself and his fiancé. “There’s like…a disconnect between us…”

“No there’s not, I just don’t like Christmas. I think it’s stupid and don’t even get me started on Disneyland—”

“It’s not about Christmas, Jes! Or Disneyland!” Harry bursts, sliding off the bed completely. He didn’t plan to bring this up right now, but it’s probably too late to back out now. “It’s about you and me—we’re not on the same team right now and I don’t even know why. I mean you don’t talk to me anymore and you’re always avoiding me and we haven’t even had sex in—”

 _“I_ don’t talk to _you_?” Jesse interrupts, voice filled with sudden irritation and Harry knows that this is about to become an actual fight. “It’s definitely the other way around, Harry. You refuse to tell me anything about you before we met.”

“What? That’s not true, I—”

“Louis.” Jesse states simply, narrowing his eyes in challenge like he’s been waiting for a way to bring this up. “Tell me what happened between you and Louis.”

“Why do you keep coming back to this?” Harry sighs, running a hand through his curls as he feels a tremendous wave of exhaustion coming on. “I already told you nothing happened.”

“There you go. Case in point.” Jesse gestures towards Harry. “I ask you about him and you immediately shut down.”

“That’s not me not talking to you. That’s me telling you there’s nothing to fucking talk about when it comes to me and Louis.” Harry defends. He doesn’t need this thrown back in his face right now, he gets enough of that from his own wandering mind. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.”

“He told me that he was your sister’s doctor...” Jesse reveals, eyes carefully watching Harry.

“You  _talked_ to him? What the fuck, Jesse! Why?” Harry’s exhaustion morphs to sudden anger, brain roaring through all the possibilities a conversation like that could have gone between Louis and Jesse.

“Yes, I did, because you obviously were never going to tell me anything! You still won’t!”

“Because it’s irrelevant!” Harry snaps, raising his voice.

“No, Harry...I think it’s pretty relevant, all things considered.” Jesse bites back.

Harry furrows his eyebrows deeply into a scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Whatever.” Jesse shrugs dismissively as though he’s given up on the topic all together.

“Oh my god, Jesse!” Harry sighs heavily in exasperation. “We were friends a million years ago…it has nothing to do with right now. Can we move on from this? Just let it go, please.”

Jesse remains quiet, standing a few feet away. He leans against the far dresser along the wall, running both his hands through his dark hair.

“Jes, I’m not trying to keep things from you…I just…I…” Harry stumbles over his words, not because he doesn’t want to reassure his fiancé, but because he doesn’t know how. Everything about the past feels like a giant question mark and as much as his thoughts continue to ruminate around Louis, Harry refuses to give any foundational basis to it, just planning to ride it out until it eventually passes— _hopefully_ passes. And if it’s going to blow over anyway, there’s really no point in delving backwards in time to shift through any of that shit. All that matters is the present and the future—the future with his fiancé. “I love you and I don’t want to fight with you, I’m sorry for how I’ve been lately…I just want you to trust me…I want us to be on the same page again.”

“We are.” Jesse answers finally in a far gentler tone of voice, coming closer. “I’m sorry too—for everything, I’m sorry. I love you, babe.”

Jesse wraps Harry into a hug, nuzzling against his shoulder. And Harry deflates into his arms, closing his eyes as he tries to reign in his thoughts. But that odd, unsettling feeling hasn’t left him, if anything it’s only grown stronger. Pitted deep down in his gut no matter how hard Harry wages to drive it out.

_why do i keep feeling like this?_

“I’ll help you with Christmas.” Jesse promises against his neck, acquiring Harry’s attention in full.

“Really?” Harry beams in surprise, lifting his head hopefully.

“Yeah…” Jesse nods, gazing at Harry. “If it really means that much to you, I’ll help you plan a Disneyland trip for your daughter.”.

“It does, it means a lot to me.” Harry leans in to press their lips together. “Thank you.”

 

 

||☤||

 

“Is that a… _hickey?”_ Louis asks the second Niall joins him in the elevator, noticing the obvious love bites decorating his neckline straightaway.

Niall blushes, lifting the collar of his lab coat to hide the markings as he cowers in the corner of the elevator to get away from Louis. “…No?”

“It is a hickey!” Louis gasps, of course getting all up into Niall’s personal space to get a better look. “And it’s sooo big! Oh, Wesley, Wesley, _Wesley…”_ He tsks his teeth as he shakes his head repeatedly, never passing on an opportunity to tease his friend. “She’s been hard at work, I see.”

Niall blushes even more as Louis fusses over him. “Leave me alone, Lou! _Stop_!”

“It’s a good thing, mate! I’m happy for you!” Louis smirks, pinching Niall’s cheek only because it’s hilarious how embarrassed and flustered he gets. “You’re having fun, that’s really good.”

Niall glances at him, but can’t hold back his growing smile as his blush starts to die down. The elevator sounds and the doors open, Louis and Niall walk in stride to meet up with their mutual patient for her final scheduled appointment. Avery finished her last dose of chemotherapy two days ago and since everything has checked out, they get to deliver the good news to her and her father today.

“Dr. Tomlinson, Dr. Horan.” Charlie addresses each of her attendings professionally as she joins them by the station.

“Dr. Wesley.” Niall nods, sounding equally professional and also fake as hell.

Louis looks back and forth between the two of them curiously. “You know you don’t have to keep up appearances for me. I literally don’t care that you’re fucking each other.”

“ _Louis_ , oh my god…” Niall groans, dragging a palm down his rapidly reddening face. But his rosy coloring is no match for Charlie’s, who currently rivals the bright shade of a ripe tomato.

“Joking, _joking_.” Louis teases with a little laugh to himself. “Of course I care about you and your relationship. I completely support it. After all, you’re kinda cute together…matching tomatoes...”

“Would you stop!” Niall begs, only proving Louis’ point as he reaches the same red hue as his girlfriend.

“We agreed to keep it professional at work. Less messy that way.” Charlie tells Louis after her blush has settled somewhat.

Louis smirks in total amusement. “Oh well, in that case then I must agree that the artful hematoma you inflicted on Dr. Horan’s sternocleidomastoid exudes the _utmost_ professionalism, Dr. Wesley.” 

Charlie’s entire face colors right back to crimson, while Niall attempts to further hide his purpling hickey behind the lapels of his white coat.  

“You’re fucking awful.” Niall scowls.

“I love you too.” Louis grins, blowing his friend a teasing kiss.

Niall’s scowl melts right away as he can never stay upset with Louis for long, but then his pager begins to sound from his pocket. “Oh shit—I gotta go, my patient’s appendix just ruptured.” He announces in a suddenly serious work tone. “You can handle everything with Harry today, right? You’re good without me?”

“I’m not a child.” Louis defends, rolling his eyes even though Niall is probably right to ask considering the many ups and downs Louis has been going through over the last week. “I think I can handle one last appointment with him by myself.”

“I’m here.” Charlie peeps up helpfully.

“Yeah, see, I’ve got your girlfriend—sorry, I mean I’ve got a very capable young intern.” Louis grins at her knowingly and Charlie laughs a bit in return. Truthfully, he would like Charlie even if she wasn’t dating one of his best friends. She’s absolutely brilliant, demonstrating a natural knack for his specialty and Louis takes great joy in mentoring her. 

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Niall directs at Charlie as he starts backpedaling down the hall.

“Yeah, definitely…” Charlie smiles privately at him. “I can’t wait.”

“I hope you’re taking her out on a _real_ date, Horan.” Louis calls after him. “I better not see you having a candlelit dinner in the cafeteria or going on a romantic evening stroll to an on-call room. It’s not cute. My intern deserves better.”

“Shut up, Tomlinson.” Niall barks with no actual bite. “Charlie, you know I would never do that to you.”

“I know.” Charlie giggles and Niall smiles at her full on, steps slowing down as they stare at each other far too intensely.

“Get out of here!” Louis shoos, breaking them out of their weird couple trance. “Go do your job! Your patient needs an appe! And my intern and I have a patient to see!”

Niall waves and then jogs off, moving twice as fast to make up for the minute or two he lost. Louis grabs a tablet from the dock, pulling up Avery’s chart as he and Charlie make their way over to the exam room she’s been assigned to by the charge nurse.

“Louis!” Avery beams the moment she sees him at the door, entire face lighting up. Even though she already shines just like the sun, dressed in a lovely yellow sweater with a headscarf to match. She’s propped up on an exam table, swinging her glittery light up sneakers back and forth while Harry stands by her side.

“Hi Aves!” Louis smiles back just as wide, always happy to see her even if he just saw her the other day. “I’m _loving_ the shoes.”

“They glow in the dark too.” Avery tells him proudly, kicking them around.

“Wow, you’re just too stylish for me. I can’t keep up.” Louis compliments.

“You should get some for your birthday and then we can match!” Avery suggests excitedly through a gasp, as though the concept alone has made her entire day.

“I should, huh? I should treat myself.” Louis agrees with a nod. “But do you think they’d look good on me?”

“Yes, of course I do!” She agrees without a single doubt. “And they’d make your doctor outfit less boring.”

Louis laughs, looking down at his typical navy blue scrubs and Adidas trainers. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Louis, your birthday is next week!” Avery announces next, sounding more eager about his birthday than he is. She turns her head up towards Harry. “Daddy, did you know that Louis has the coolest birthday? It’s on Christmas Eve!”

Harry nods faintly forcing his gaze to Louis for the first time since he came in the room. Since he’s remained purposely silent the entire time, Louis hardly thinks Harry will even answer. That is until he does and what he asks nearly drowns Louis in a floods worth of uncharted memories.

“Any birthday plans?”

Louis blinks, gazing back at Harry with a sudden loss for words. It’s unclear whether Harry even remembers the correlation his question has to the past. Probably not, he doesn’t remember anything else accurately, why would he ever remember the random promise they made up on that grassy hill?

_no matter where we are in the future, we have to celebrate the entire holiday and your birthday together, ok? promise?_

“Ehh…not really, a quiet one with friends probably.” Louis answers finally, refocusing his thoughts. He usually spends the holidays and his birthday with his friends, one of them always hosting something small each year. And if not, Louis has spent quite a few years with his patients at the hospital. But he never saw it as a bad thing, or something to get upset about. Saving a life is nothing but a privilege and to save a life at Christmas time, only serves to put more meaning into the season.

“Sorry I’m late, I had a hard time leaving work.” Jesse explains as he abruptly bursts into the exam room.  

“Always something with you, isn’t it?” Louis huffs under his breath, suddenly irritated solely because of Jesse’s presence. It’s hard not to notice the fact that the man always has an excuse at the ready. Avery has had many chemotherapy sessions and progress scans and check up appointments, yet this whole time Harry has been going to most of them alone. The fact of the matter is, Jesse is hardly here.

“What was that?” Jesse raises an eyebrow at Louis in challenge, seeming to sense the irritated vibes radiating from Louis’ body.

“Nothing.” Louis stands up straighter, meeting Jesse’s glare square on. “I was just about to give Harry an update on Avery’s condition, but you are so welcome to join us.” He smears on a fake smile, voice false and overly cheery.

“Great.” Jesse grins back, looking equally fake. And Louis decides he really doesn’t like this guy. It was mild disinterest at first, which moved into the realm of unwelcome nuisance and now Louis just flat out dislikes the man. But that’s really none of his business at this point. It’s Harry’s fiancé, it’s Harry’s life, if he’s happy, so be it.

Louis shakes himself out and focuses on why he is here in the first place. “Alright, so Avery’s newest scans as of this morning show no new malignant growths in her brain. Her lab work came back clean and all her vitals are exactly where we would expect them to be at this stage, which means that you, Ms. Avery, won’t have to come in for treatment much anymore.”

“Avie, did you hear that? You’re all better…that’s wonderful, baby!” Harry enthuses joyfully, wrapping her up in his strong arms.

Avery smiles, hugging her dad back tightly, but Louis senses that for some reason she’s not totally happy with this news.

“She’ll still need to come in every few months or so for a routine CT scan and a MRI, just to be on the safe side.” Louis continues, slightly preoccupied by Avery’s odd expression. “She’s still a cancer patient, but no longer a surgical patient. The worst is officially over. But if anything doesn’t seem right—anything at all, like she starts feeling faint or having headaches again or you just think she seems off, bring her in right away. Or you can always call if you have any questions…”

“Thank you, Louis. Really…” Harry says genuinely, setting Avery back down to turn his attention towards Louis. He offers his hand as well as a painfully soft smile. “Thank you for everything, you’ve done so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it…”

He continues to hold Louis’ gaze and his hand, and Louis can’t seem to let go of either. Harry’s expression is so appreciative and dangerously gentle and his forest colored eyes are pulling Louis in as they always tend to do without much effort. Seconds are passing them by, but neither of them have moved their hands away or said anything further, eyes locked on each other.

Jesse clears his throat suddenly, standing just to the left of Harry and Louis.

Louis nods, forcing himself to break contact. He stuffs both of his hands into his lab coat, purposely avoiding meeting Harry’s eyes again. “Right, ok so…there are some forms that you need to sign and uh…” He glances at Charlie standing at his side. “Dr. Wesley can escort you where you need to go.”

“Yes, I can do that.” Charlie steps forward with a nod of her head. “Follow me, Mr. Styles.”

“Avie, do you want to come with me or wait here?” Harry bends down to ask.

“I’ll wait for you here.” Avery decides quietly, peeking up at Louis from where she sits on the exam table.

Harry nods, seeming to understand what his daughter wants without her really communicating it. He leans in to kiss her cheek. “Ok, I’ll be back, Munchie.”

Harry glances back at Louis once more in silence before following after Charlie, Jesse going behind them.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytn5FhI3Qwg&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtjJgq3Yc9P5gv8inM19l99&index=4)

And once it’s just Louis and Avery in the exam room, Louis closes the space between them and sits down next to her on the exam table. They swing their feet around together in silence for a few moments.

“Avery, what’s wrong, love?” Louis wonders gently, moving to rub soothing patterns along her spine. “You don’t look very excited to be all better.”

“I am excited…” Avery tries, but it’s not at all convincing.

Louis gives her a knowing look, waiting for her to give him the full truth.

“I just…I’m happy that I’m better, I am I swear, but…”

“But what, little love?”

Avery lets out a sigh, head still hung downward as she twists her hands together in her lap. “I just don’t understand…why didn’t—I mean why...um…why did it stop?”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” Louis wonders in confusion.

“Why did it all stop, Louis?” Avery looks up and meets his eyes and her hazel ones are lined with saltwater. “Me as your charting buddy? Me going to work with you? People thinking I’m yours? Me being your Aves? Why didn’t I get to see you till now? Why aren’t I…why aren’t I still yours?” Her face starts to break as she starts to cry. “Why Louis, w-why…”

“Oh, Aves.” Louis immediately embraces her, holding her head to his chest to soothe her.

“It’s like I was m-missing something I didn’t know I was missing, b-but now I know. I always felt like something was…but I…I didn’t k-know—” Avery sobs into his white coat, hands squeezing him tightly. “You’re what I’m missing. I-It’s you. It’s you, Louis…it’s you...”

Louis is at a total loss for words. He has missed her— _god_ he’s missed her, more than he could ever begin to say. His heart ached and longed for her every single day they were apart. They may not share a common bloodline, but Louis cares for Avery as though he does.

_you’re what i’m missing too_

“I don’t want you to disappear again…” Avery whispers with her teary eyes closed as she clings to Louis. “I don’t want to never see you a-again. What if…what if he keeps me away from you again?”

“Your dad?” Louis questions gently. “He wouldn’t do that, Aves. I know he wouldn’t.”

“But he already has...” Avery cries, hanging her head as her voice fills with far more sadness than an eight-year-old should ever have. “He never told me about you and…and he n-never tells me about my mother... he k-keeps everything from me and I don’t understand w-why…”

“Avery, honey, your father loves you and he is only doing what’s best for you.” Louis reassures her, knowing just how hard this can be to comprehend and accept. “You have to understand that he’s doing the very best that he can.”

“I know he loves me…I k-know he does and I love him more than anything. He’s a really good daddy and he does so much for me and he works so hard just to take care of me...but…b-but why!” Avery sobs in frustration, tears streaming down her dreadfully confused face. “Why won’t he b-be honest with me? Why…”

“Oh come here, babes. I can’t answer that for him.” Louis sighs, resting his cheek to the top of her head. “Sometimes in life, as we get older, things get to be too hard and it can be really scary. And sometimes it’s hard to talk about things and be honest about how we feel because we’re afraid of getting hurt, but it doesn’t mean that he is doing it on purpose and it doesn’t ever mean that it’s your fault, ok? Adults still get scared and we still make mistakes. Nothing your father ever did was meant to hurt you, Avery. That much I know.”

Avery sniffles against Louis’ scrubs, clutching onto him as though she’s afraid that he might disappear into thin air. She’s still crying and it breaks Louis’ heart because he doesn’t know what else he can tell her. He knows she’s scared and confused about why all this happened and Louis wishes with everything that he had the answers to give her.

“I’m here now, I’m here.” Louis whispers against her temple, rocking her gently in his arms. And she keeps her small arms wrapped around him, gripping Louis’ middle unwaveringly.

“But I’m n-not going to see you as much a-anymore.” Avery murmurs sadly through her heavy tears. “I d-don’t want to go back to where you don’t exist.”

“Hey, look at me.” Louis pulls back so he can look into her eyes seriously, cupping her face with both his hands. “I promise we will see each other. I promise. You can call me whenever you want. Day or night or whenever, I swear it. This isn’t goodbye forever, little love.”

Avery sniffles and Louis gently thumbs away her lingering tears. Her usually golden eyes shifting to more green undertones as saltwater brims under them. She looks up at him and tries to smile as best she can and Louis knows, with every part of him, that he would do absolutely anything for her.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy.” Louis smiles back softly, teasing a bit. He pulls Avery back against his chest, hugging her tightly as he presses his lips to the top of her head. “Aves, no matter what happens, I will always be there for you when you need me. Always.”


	7. seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> youtube [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVttT0P7qkn-ACk33Tl0dSdF).  
> and i updated the spotify one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends, i finished this chapter earlier than i thought so yay!
> 
> love lex .x

_maybe it’s broken beyond repair_.

||✚||

 

Christmas came and went without the satisfaction Harry was immensely hoping for. Jesse somewhat helped out as he promised and they took Avery on a four-day trip to Disneyland Resort, which she absolutely loved. But yet somehow it still felt…empty. Not the trip specifically, Harry had tons of fun with his daughter and they of course enjoyed themselves, but something still just felt _off_. Or maybe it was just him that felt off. That lingering feeling in his gut growing stronger day by day like a virus he just can’t shake. Harry can’t seem to reconcile himself as he once could no matter what he does or how hard he tries. And it continued on through New Years and then his birthday, following him all the way to March like a dark shadow.

Harry thought the passing of time would equate to the inevitable passing of his confusing feelings about Louis, but it seems as just the opposite is happening. But the thing is, he hasn’t even seen Louis in all that time, they’ve had essentially no contact in months. That doesn’t seem to matter though, because it’s not necessarily the present Harry is dwelling on, it’s the past—everything Harry swore never to go back to. A host of memories that aren’t as forgotten as he’d like them to be.

Louis laughing at something utterly random Harry said, his beautiful, light yet full laugh that never failed to make Harry smile. Harry cooking dinner for them both while Louis gave Harry an exaggerated, yet detailed reenactment of his entire day, complete with his hilarious impressions of his most amusing patients. The two of them spread out under the stars with linked fingers, Louis carefully watching him with those eyes that never seemed to miss a thing, those eyes Harry was always getting lost in. Memory after neglected memory, each one evoking a new sense of longing from somewhere deep inside Harry.

And to make matters worse, the other night Harry woke up in a painfully hot sweat over an unexpected dream—a sex dream to be more specific. And since it wasn’t about Jesse in any way whatsoever, Harry instantly felt incredibly guilty, like he cheated or something awful like that. But he didn’t? Because it wasn’t a conscious choice and in reality he and Louis haven’t even had sex— _ever_. But regardless of that, the majority of Harry’s guilt stems from the fact that when he first woke up, he immediately wished that it wasn’t a dream, that Harry really did have Louis coming completely undone by his touch, enraptured by all the many sounds he makes and utterly overwhelmed by how wrecked Louis’ voice sounds as he gasps out the softest _I love you_ , moaning Harry’s name as though his lips and his lips alone were made to form the word—

_this has to stop, i’m fucking engaged_

Harry needs to get his shit together, how is he supposed to marry Jesse when he’s having dreams about another man. Something needs to be done about this and at the very least he needs to start being more transparent with his fiancé. He hates the idea of talking about this with Jesse, but he also hates the growing feeling of guilt looming over him. It’s going to completely piss Jesse off, real or not, so Harry promised himself that once he gets back from his business trip to L.A. he’s going to address this entire thing head on and come clean about his hopelessly confused state of mind. But right now, their lives have finally started to inch back towards normal, for the most part at least. Avery feels well enough to go back to school full time instead of doing her work from home and going in only a few days of the week like she was during her chemo treatments. And aside from Harry’s internal turmoil, he and Jesse are doing good, they even locked down a few wedding plans. It’s just not the best time to bring any of Harry’s current stressors up, especially not as he is getting ready to go on a potentially lengthy trip.

“Ok, I have to go, my flight’s in two hours.” Harry announces after carting all his luggage to the door.

“I’ll miss you, Daddy.” Avery pouts up at him.

“Oh, I’ll miss you too, Aviebug.” Harry scoops her up and she wraps her legs around his waist. He blows kisses to her cheeks, tickling her sides until Avery starts to giggle and squeal in his strong arms. “I’ll miss you and I’ll miss you and I’ll miss you! Every single second of every single day!”

“ _Daddy!”_ Avery squirms happily as she hugs her small arms around his neck.

“You’re so ticklish, Avie.” Harry giggles along with her, attacking his daughter with more kisses than she knows what to do with.

“Why do you have to go?” Avery sulks sadly after settling down in his arms. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I know baby, I don’t want to leave either, but I have to go for work.” Harry explains with the same sad pout of his lips. “But I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

“But Daddy, how soon is soon?” She wonders, toying with a lock of his growing curls.

Truly, Harry isn’t exactly sure how long he’ll have to be in L.A. He’s hoping just a few days, but with trips like this a few days easily morphs into a few weeks and being away from his daughter is never ideal. Once, when he first was in the process of transitioning to Seattle, he was gone almost an entire month and it was absolutely horrible. He considered bringing Avery along this time, but with how much school she’s already missed, it wouldn’t be fair to her, especially since she loves school. And Harry also wouldn’t want her to fall even further behind in her class, her teacher has already been so accommodating as it is.

“You’ll be back in my arms before you know it.” Harry promises, pressing a light kiss to her cute little nose. “And when I get back we can spend a whole day together and bake cupcakes and watch _Singing in the Rain_ and paint our nails and anything else you want to do. How does that sound, Munchie?”

“Perfect.” Avery gives him a dimpled smile that matches his own. It’s one of their favorite traditions, the two of them baking with their faces covered in a mix of sugar and flour, dusting their hair white. Avery doesn’t help as much as she steals stealthy tastes of frosting, always propped up on the countertop giving orders and suggestions to Harry. Harry wonders where she got her bossiness from and then he remembers who her mother was. But they always snuggle up together after it’s all said and done to eat them, Avery tucked under Harry’s arm as they watch their favorite movie together, happily singing along as loud as they can. “Just you and me?”

“Just you and me, it’s a date.” Harry presses another loving kiss to the top of her head, wrapped up in a scarf, one of the many colorful ones he bought her after she lost her hair.

Avery beams and Harry’s heart can only melt at how bright and beautiful her smile is. He squeezes her close again, becoming more and more reluctant to release her. God, leaving his daughter is the worst and he wishes he didn’t have to work so hard, he wishes he could stay tucked away with his favorite little munchkin forever and never once have to leave her side.

“Be good for Jesse, ok?” Harry whispers against her cheek.

“I will.” Avery promises sweetly.

Harry holds her close, trying to soak up the feeling of having her in his arms just a little while longer. “I love you, Munch. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Avery grins, hugging him closer. “I love you too, Daddy.”

Harry sets her down gently, not without kissing her cheeks a few more times. He then walks towards Jesse, standing off towards the front door by Harry’s suitcase. He pulls Harry into a farewell hug.

“Jes, don’t forget, she starts school at 8:05 every morning, so you have to leave by 7:30 or you won’t make it with the traffic.” Harry reminds, a million and one things suddenly popping into his mind that he feels compelled to remind his fiancé about.

“I know, Harry.” Jesse nods, pulling back. “This isn’t the first time I’ve taken care of her while you were gone.”

Harry knows that, but it never hurts to be on the safe side. He also made his fiancé a full color coded schedule, which he not only printed out and taped to the refrigerator, he also sent it directly to Jesse’s phone. So there really should be no excuses or mistakes. “Oh, and there’s a Home and School committee meeting on Friday, and it’s my turn to bring cupcakes. I was going to bring homemade ones, but since you’re not much of a baker, I think you should order from—”

“It’s not that I can’t bake, it’s that I don’t like to bake.” Jesse corrects pointedly.

“Ok well anyway…the mums in the committee are all on some kind of diet, so the cupcakes have to be gluten free and also vegan—it’s really important.” Harry explains, knowing just how sensitive his fellow committee members are about such things. Since Avery just started at this school last fall, Harry has worked extra hard to get within the good graces of the Home and School Board, wanting the best experience possible for his daughter. And after much ladder climbing, he’s finally in the inner circle of parents, they even invite him to yoga on Sundays now. And he is not about to let Jesse fuck any of that up by bringing full dairy, full fat, full flour cupcakes under Harry’s name. Knowing those mothers, they’d probably accuse him of poisoning them and he’d essentially be excommunicated and all his hard work towards Avery’s successful future at that school will be in vain. “I’ll text you the names of a few good bakeries.”

Jesse frowns. “I still don’t understand why it’s so important that you be so invested and involved with all that.”

“Jesse, I’ve already explained this to you dozens of times.” Harry sighs, sometimes it feels like Jesse isn’t listening to him, especially if Harry is talking about something that doesn’t directly affect him. Perfect example: Avery’s education. “And I really don’t have time to say it again. Will you please just go the bakery for me?”

“Ok, I’ll go.” Jesse finally agrees, nodding.

“Thank you.” Harry shoulders his laptop bag before lifting the handle of his suitcase. “One more thing, you do know Avery’s meds schedule and everything, right? It’s on the planner I sent you, but—”

“Yes, Harry,  _yes_.” Jesse nods obviously, sounding a touch irritated.

“Ok, sorry…it’s just that it’s only her fourth week back to school full time and I want to make sure she’s really ok, you know?” Harry admits, glancing over to the neighboring living room where Avery is quietly coloring. “I worry about her...”

“She’s fine. You’re being paranoid, it’s been three months since she finished her treatment.” Jesse reminds him, taking one of his hands in reassurance. “I promise she’ll be fine.”

“Yeah…ok…I guess you’re right.” Harry turns his attention back to Jesse. Maybe he is going a bit overboard with the precautions and schedules. But it’s only because he loves Avie and he wants everything to remain in order and balanced for her even while he’s away. “Call me if anything happens with her?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jesses nods his head, before leaning in to peck Harry’s cheek goodbye. “Love you. Be safe.”

 

||☤||

 

“I’m so glad we’re finally doing this.” Zayn smiles as he and Louis settle in at their reserved dinner table. The restaurant isn’t too crowded tonight, but since it’s one of the more popular and pricier ones in Seattle, Zayn made sure to call ahead. “I don’t know when the last time I saw you out of scrubs was.”

“Aww, how could I turn down a dinner date with you, mate?” Louis grins behind his leather bound menu. “After all, you owe me a really fancy dinner.”

“Order whatever the hell you want, I got it.” Zayn promises, flipping through his own menu. A server comes by promptly to take their order, both of them deciding on a salmon dish, as it is the house special for the night and apparently a favorite among guests. And Zayn tops it off by adding a full bottle of imported wine to share between them.

“So how’s it going, man?” Zayn leans into the table after they’ve finished ordering. “Give me the dirty.”

Louis laughs a bit. “Zayn, what is that supposed to mean?”

“Give me the damn scoop on your life!” Zayn repeats with emphasized clarification. “You’ve been working so much again lately, I’ve hardly seen you.”

It’s true, after the holidays had settled down Louis dove head first into his practice, overbooking himself to almost illegal hours. In fact, he’s only free to have dinner with Zayn tonight because Steve practically locked him out of the O.R. and kicked him out of the hospital. But as of recently, Louis can’t stand having free time. He’s always hated to be alone, but what’s worse is being alone with only his thoughts. But lucky for Louis, he absolutely loves what he does for a living—he _loves_ surgery, so what better way to completely occupy his time than saving lives? And since there is no one waiting up for him at home aside for his loyal dog anyway, he’s free to work the outrageous hours that no one else wants to.

“I’ve been working, like you said, so…” Louis shrugs, lifting his wine glass to his lips.

Zayn narrows his eyes. “Don’t be difficult, bro.”

“How am I being difficult, mate?” Louis grins slowly. “You asked me about my life and I told you.”

“And you know good and well that’s not what I meant.” Zayn frowns, picking up his own wine glass. “Besides, I need something to report back to your horribly worried parents. Niall and Liam are beside themselves, you know.”

Louis is in no way avoiding his friends—not purposely anyway, he would never do that, he’s just been so busy with all the extra cases he’s taken on, that he hasn’t been able to catch up with them properly or hang out as often as they used to. But they see each other all the time at work and they still have Lad’s Night, plus Louis wouldn’t hesitate to make time for any of them the second they needed it.

“They’re being dramatic as usual. I specifically remember hanging out with each of them last month.” Louis recalls, looking up for a moment. “Liam and I went fishing—so fucking boring, oh my god. And we didn’t even catch anything...but he was happy so I guess it wasn’t all pointless. And Niall came over literally only to talk about Wesley—which was surprisingly fun for me because he’s so easily embarrassed and teasing him is almost too easy.” He snickers lightly to himself. “But anyway, they have nothing to complain or be worried about.”

“You know your dads, they need a constant connection.” Zayn reminds knowingly. “If it were up to them, I’d be wearing a wire right now just so they could listen in.”

Louis laughs, knowing that even though Zayn is joking, it definitely has a level of truth to it.

“Ok, so let’s have it.” Zayn looks to Louis dead on. “Have you spoken to He Who Shall Not Be Named?”

Louis smirks a little at how nerdy his friend is. “No, as a matter of fact, I have not.”

“Hmm…interesting…interesting…” Zayn nods from behind his glass, leaning back in his chair as though he wears the hat of Psychiatrist instead of Plastic Surgeon.

“What’s so interesting about that?” Louis frowns curiously.

“Oh nothing…” Zayn answers easily, airily gesturing across the table. “Please continue.”

“Continue with what, Zayn?” Louis bites back another incredulous laugh. “That’s it, I have nothing else to say.”

“Interesting…” Zayn nods again, stroking his chin. “Very, very… _interesting_ …”

“Would you stop saying that!” Louis bursts.

“I just find it interesting that you aren’t being real with me right now.”

Louis blinks in confusion. “And by that you mean?”

“Here I am wining and dining you, giving you my full undivided attention—which you know is hard for me to do and yet you won’t even tell me how you’re really doing.” Zayn says, leaning in towards the center of the table again. “Talk to me, Lou. Be real with me. I know you get it enough from Niall and Liam, but now you’re getting it from me too. We’re all worried about you.”

“Alright, alright, Z.” Louis sighs, he knew it would come to this eventually, especially with the caring, yet invasive bunch he is so lucky to call his best friends. “So I’m trying my best to move on with my life, you know? It’s weird because before…years ago I mean, I couldn’t stop wondering where he was and now…I don’t have to wonder anymore, I know exactly where he is…but I wish I didn’t. So I’m focused on my career and it’s good—I’m good, I’m ok. I’ve reached a point of acceptance and I’m doing ok now.”

“That’s really good, Lou.” Zayn smiles, seeming touched that Louis opened up to him a bit. “I’m glad you’re moving on in the best way you can.”

“Yeah…I mean I really love what I do—you know that, so it’s fine. Maybe I wasn’t ever meant to settle down with someone and have a family or whatever…maybe my career will be enough eventually...or something…I dunno really…I’m not quite sure yet, but I’m figuring it out—or I’m trying to…” Louis explains slowly, fidgeting with his silverware. “I talk to Avery sometimes though...”

Zayn raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? She calls you? That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah. She calls me just to chat—she’s so cute. A few weeks ago she called just to tell me a random fact she learned about walruses—cuz that’s always been our thing.” Louis awes softly, unable to stop the proud and fond smile from stretching his face. Avery could talk on the phone for as long as she liked and Louis would never stop feeling in awe of her. He misses her and wishes they could talk more, but with the situation as it stands, it’s not quite realistic. Harry wouldn’t ever deny Avery from talking to Louis, but Louis also doesn’t want to infringe on their family dynamic with Jesse and their impending wedding. At the end of the day, Avery isn’t his and Louis doesn’t have any true right to her despite how much he wishes he did.

“Anyway, what about you?” Louis clears his throat and quickly changes the topic, trying not to let things he can’t change get to him. “How are things with you and Liam?”

“So Liam and I decided that we are going to try being exclusive.” Zayn announces, a soft grin settling on his face

“You’re shitting me— _really_? No way, that’s huge for you.” Louis comments in surprise, jaw falling open.

“Yeah, man…” Zayn breathes out, nodding slow.

“Who’s idea was it?” Louis wonders.

“You know Liam’s been wanting it since…well since the very beginning when we were interns. He only went along with our friends with benefits thing because he thought it was what I wanted.” Zayn explains. “And it was…or at least it used to be…”

“So what changed?”

“I went to a conference last weekend for ENTs or whatever—it doesn’t matter…anyway I don’t really know how it happened exactly, but I ended up telling someone I was married—like it just fell out of my mouth in conversation as though it were true or some shit. And it was so natural, but the idea of it felt good?” Zayn contemplates, still sounding confused by it. “We always joke about being husbands, but when I actually think about it, everything Liam and I do actually feels like we’re married, which should be scary as fuck but…it’s not? I didn’t know I wanted that for real. I didn’t think I’d ever want something like that, the concept always scared the living shit out of me. But then I started thinking about what drunk you said in the bathtub a few months ago, and you were right.”

“I was?” Louis questions, not remembering half of what he said that night. It’s all a huge blur, although Niall keeps saying that it was comedic gold.

“It’s stupid, you know? After awhile it’s just fucking stupid and pointless—having the person I want to spend the rest of my life with sitting right in front of me and still thinking I need the freedom to sleep around. I never wanted to be tied down—I mean, that’s what I used to tell myself. But now…I dunno, it’s like I feel tied down whenever I’m not with him. He makes me feel free and weightless…and the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Louis knows that exact feeling Zayn is describing, he knows it so well that he doesn’t even need Zayn to explain any further. And he still feels lingering sparks of it, flickers and traces here and there that continually keep the rest of his heart chained to one person.

“I love him and he deserves so much more and all I want to do is give it to him.” Zayn’s face is softer than Louis has ever seen it in all the many years he’s known him.

“Aww Zayn, I’m really proud of you, mate.” Louis smiles wide, genuinely thrilled for his friend. “And I’m happy for you both, I’ve been wanting this to happen for such a long time. When you guys eventually get married, I’ve got quite a speech prepared for you.”

“Please don’t embarrass me.” Zayn groans. “I won’t invite you.”

“Oh please, I’m _sooo_ going to be your best man.” Louis scoffs knowingly, sipping on his wine glass. “And since Niall will obviously be Liam’s, we can tag team the speech and make sure all our bases are covered.” He teases purposefully. “It’s gonna be epic.”

Zayn sighs heavily, shaking his head. “Fuck, I need new friends.”

 

||☤||

 

 

Louis pushes the double doors open, stepping into a quiet office. There’s no one sitting at the secretary’s desk, but he hardly has a moment to gather his thoughts before he is met by a frantic looking woman, glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose as she briskly jogs up to him from somewhere in the back.

“Dr. Louis Tomlinson?” She questions, nearly out of breath as she eyes him hopefully.

“Yes, that’s me.” Louis holds his hand out for a shake, recognizing the voice from the urgent phone call he received earlier. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of his scrubs before rushing over here from the hospital, only throwing on his SSMC windbreaker.

She takes his hand gratefully, giving it a quick shake. “I’m Principal Hughes, pleasure to meet you, Dr. Tomlinson. Thank you for coming so quickly, I am so sorry to call you here but—we didn’t know what else to do.”

Louis nods in reassurance, trying not to let any of the wildly anxious feelings inside him show through his features. He dropped literally everything at a moment’s notice to get to the school fast enough, dumping his non-emergent patients on a resident until he gets back. Nothing on earth could stop him from being here. “Where is she?”

“Follow me.” Principal Hughes swiftly pivots on her heel, walking through a side door to start down the long hall of the school. Louis follows right behind her, keeping up with her long strides.

“It’s my understanding that Mr. Styles has been out of town on a business trip to L.A. for awhile.” Principal Hughes starts, explaining over her shoulder as they walk. “And according to Avery’s teacher, she’s been complaining of persistent headaches and nausea all day and she can hardly focus, which is not like her. She had a few dizzy spells and then collapsed momentarily, so we immediately took her to the school nurse and called Mr. Ryland, her father’s fiancé.”

“Right.” Louis nods along, brain whirling as he listens. “So is he here? Jesse?”

“Yes…well, as soon as he arrived, Avery locked herself in the bathroom. We’ve tried and tried, but she refuses to open the door. She just keeps calling and crying for you and she flat out refuses to leave with Mr. Ryland. We didn’t know what else to do but call you.” Principal Hughes explains further. “Her father has you listed as an emergency contact as her physician, so you are at liberty to take her under the context of a medical emergency, which I do believe this is. I’m extremely worried about her condition, Dr. Tomlinson. When I saw her she didn’t look well and she sounds so terribly weak. I hope you don’t mind taking her—”

“I’ll take her, of course—of course.” Louis interrupts automatically, trying to process all of this information, while keeping a level voice. “Thank you for calling me.”

They round another corner of the school and Louis starts to hear a bit of commotion in the distance. Picking up the pace, Principal Hughes guides them to the nurses’ office, holding the door open for Louis to enter first.

“No!” Louis registers Avery’s small voice echo faintly from behind another door positioned in the corner. “I don’t want you! No! No! If I can’t have my Daddy, then I want Louis! I want _Louis_!” 

Jesse is leaning against the frame of the doorway casually, typing something out on his phone. His face looks agitated and annoyed as he outwardly sighs heavily. “Avery, he’s not here. Just let me—”

“No! No! No! I don’t want you! I want Louis!” Avery cries repeatedly through the locked door. “Call Louis! He’ll come for me! I know he’ll come for me! He _promised_!”

“Come on, Avery.” Jesse wiggles the door knob roughly in frustration. “Open the door!” 

“No! No! No!” She sobs, her small voice trembling. “Only for Louis!”

Jesse groans as he sags against the locked door. He lifts his head and once he spots Louis, the agitation grows even stronger, shadowing his features darkly. He clenches his fists at his sides, looking defensive and even a bit territorial.

“Mr. Ryland, this is Dr. Tomlinson.” Principal Hughes introduces pointlessly as they further into the room.

“We’ve met.” Jesse answers shortly, glaring at Louis as though he is the biggest nuisance in his life. “Many, _many_ times.”

“Oh right, of course you have.” Principal Hughes nods obviously to herself. “How silly of me to assume. Well, Dr. Tomlinson is here to take Avery to the hospital—hopefully. If she permits.”

Louis approaches the situation slowly, taking a few steps closer to the locked door. He turns towards Jesse, who is blocking the door, and offers him a questioning gaze. “Um... may I?” 

Jesse eyes him for a moment before throwing up his hands and taking a step back to allow Louis to get closer. Principal Hughes hovers anxiously behind them.

“Good luck.” Jesse huffs cynically over his shoulder as he moves out of the way.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RyV6653EUIc&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVttT0P7qkn-ACk33Tl0dSdF&index=1&t=0s)

Louis kneels down against the door, figuring he’d be more at her hearing level given her height. “Hi Aves, hello sweetheart. It’s me, it’s Louis…I’m here.” He spreads his palm over the surface of the door, pressing it against the grains of the wood.

“Louis?” Avery peeps hopefully, voice sounding uncertain.

“Yes, it’s me, love. I’m right here. I’m here for you.” Louis comforts gently, keeping his own voice soft and warm. “I heard you aren’t feeling very well.”

“Mmm…no…I feel...dizzy…” Avery speaks slowly, as though she has to concentrate to talk. She’s not nearly as loud as she just was while arguing with Jesse, it seems the adrenaline and urgency of the moment is fading and the severity of her ailments is rapidly returning. “And…I fell and…my arm hurts...when I move it...”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Aves, I’m so sorry. That sounds horrible.” Louis empathizes genuinely, trying not convey the vast amount of worry he feels through his voice. “Can you, maybe, open the door for me? Please? I only want to help you.”

“Are you…going to make me go with Jesse? Because I won’t. I’m not…going with him…I’m not...”

Louis flicks his eyes up at Jesse briefly. “No darling I won’t, I’ll take you. We’re going to go right to the hospital, ok?”

No answer comes from behind the door and Louis holds his breath.

“Come on, little love. Open the door for me, yeah?” Louis asks again softly, scared that she might have passed out. “Please Aves. I promise you won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Trust me.”

There’s another long pause, but slowly the door unlocks and swings open. Avery peeks out from behind it and once her tired eyes land on Louis’, a wave of relief floods her face.

“Oh, _love_ …” Louis inhales, taking in her appearance. He hasn’t seen her in a while, since she was last discharged, but she has lost a substantial amount of body mass since. The chemotherapy process had caused her to slowly lose weight, but now she looks even tinier. Her skin is pale and gauntly, lacking in its usual warm coloring and her eyes are rimmed in an exhausted red. Avery’s whole body is quivering, skin breaking out into a hot sweat of chills and she looks like she can barely keep her eyes open. She shouldn’t look like this. Since slowing down the treatment, she should be looking better, not worse. Something is definitely wrong.

“Let me see your arm, Aves.”

Avery gradually unfolds her right arm towards Louis, allowing him to hold it.

“Does this hurt, love?” Louis tries to extend it slowly, moving in different directions to assess the severity of the injury. Avery winces several times as he rotates her right arm to the side, scrunching up her face in obvious discomfort.

It’s definitely sprained, maybe even broken. Her bones are most likely weakened due to the heavy toxins that coursed through her body only months ago.

Louis carefully positions her arm against her chest, placing her free hand over the injured arm to temporarily set the fracture, preventing further damage. “Hold your arm just like that for me, yeah?”

Avery nods slowly as she winces again. But even through all the pain she must be feeling throughout her body, she stays strong, putting on a brave face. As her eyes meet Louis’, they pour out a million questions at once, but they also scream out an absolute trust, as though she realizes that she is completely safe now, regardless of not knowing what is wrong with her.

Louis kisses her cheek gently as a wordless answer, a silent reassurance that he won’t let anything happen to her. He carefully adjusts her pale blue beanie atop her head, tucking in the new little baby hairs peeking out, before scoping her light and drastically weakened frame in his arms.

As Louis stands to his feet, she cuddles her body against him, one hand weakly grasping the material of his scrubs with her lower limbs wrapped around his waist. “Do I need to sign anything for her?”

Principal Hughes looks shell-shocked at the display of unexpected trust between Avery and her doctor. “No...um, Mr. Ryland already signed the release form. But I have her things.”

“I’ll take them.” Jesse offers instantly, taking Avery’s belongings from the principal.  

“Wait…” Avery murmurs, lifting her heavy head a little. “I want Lemon…”

Louis looks to Jesse expectantly, waiting for him to dig out the worn plush walrus from Avery’s backpack. He hands it to her and she immediately hugs it to her chest.

“Oh, I do hope she gets better, she’s such a lovely girl.” Principal Hughes worries genuinely as she walks them out of the nurses’ office. “Please take care of her, Dr. Tomlinson.”

“I will.” Louis nods, holding Avery tightly against him. “Thank you for all your help.”

Louis carries Avery down the halls of the school as Jesse follows silently behind them. They make it to the double front doors and Jesse suddenly strides up in front of them, knowingly blocking the exit with his body.

“Jesse, please move.” Louis requests politely, but his eyes express something far less civil, fiercely glaring at the man standing in his way. There is a tense charge radiating between them, building up by the second.

After a moment of staring Louis down, Jesse reluctantly steps aside, following them out to the parking lot. But Louis hardly gets halfway to his car before Jesse is at it again, placing his body cumbersomely in Louis’ path.

“Mate. Seriously.” Louis grits, trying so hard to keep his cool as he steps around Jesse.

“She’s not your daughter.” Jesse barks bitterly from over Louis’ shoulder, right on his heels.

Louis just ignores him, one-handedly fishing his keys from his back pocket to unlock his black Range Rover. 

“You aren’t her fucking father.” Jesse continues, speaking out of spite as he breathes down Louis’ back.

Louis’ body tenses as he protectively pulls the frail little girl in his arms closer to his chest, one hand cupped to the back of her head. “I may not be her father, but I am her doctor and she needs to get to a hospital.” 

“Louis…I don’t…feel…g-good…” Avery mumbles almost inaudibly, her breathing growing more labored and ragged.

“I know, Aves. I know, little love.” Louis cuddles her close, whispering against her headscarf. “Just hold on, I’ve got you.”

Louis opens the car door and gently places Avery in the backseat, minding her injured arm. She shivers a bit against the cool leather of the seat. “Oh love, are you cold?” Louis shrugs out of his SSMC staff windbreaker and slides it onto Avery’s trembling body, zipping it up to the top. “There we go. How’s that?”

Avery offers him a thankful smile, seeming to use all her energy just to do it. Louis buckles her up in the seat, tucking her plush walrus under her good arm before closing the passenger door. When he turns around, Jesse is all up in his face again.

“You’re such a little home wrecker.” Jesse grumbles under his breath.

Louis scoffs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He does not have time for this. “Look pal, I don’t know what insecurities you have with your fiancé, but I’m not trying to ‘home wreck’ anything.”

“Oh, no?” Jesse challenges, stepping up and further crowding Louis’ personal space, practically pressing him back against the car. “Got the kid to like you more than me.”

“First of all, she has a name and secondly, I don’t have time to have a pissing contest with you, mate.” Louis answers evenly, eyes narrowed and not backing down. He holds his clenched fists at his sides, trying to keep a level head and not let his growing agitation get the best of him. “Avery needs medical attention. I need to get her to the hospital. Just back up.”

Jesse narrows his eyes defiantly, refusing to move out of the way. “Or what?” 

Louis has tried to be polite, he has tried to bite his tongue and be the bigger man, but this prick is standing in the way of a child’s life. “Or I’ll fucking run you over with my goddamn car. Get the fuck out of my way.” Louis shoves Jesse backwards, enough so that he can open the driver’s side door. He hops into the car and wastes no time in taking off out of the parking lot, leaving Jesse glaring after him.

Louis drives like a speed demon, zipping through the highways, hardly stopping at stop signs. He keeps glancing back at Avery every few seconds in the rearview mirror, talking to her gently and trying to keep her engaged and conscious.

“How are you doing back there, Aves? Want some fresh air?” Louis asks.

She feebly shakes her head no, holding on to her little walrus quietly.

“How long have you been feeling sick, babes?”

“A few days…” Avery whispers faintly and Louis has to strain just to hear her over the sound of the road. “I told him…I didn’t want to go to school…” She rasps weakly, head hanging, eyes closed. “I told him…I didn’t feel good…I told him...” Her head lulls to the side, eyes closing. 

Louis grips the wheel tightly, anger coursing through his veins like venom. Anyone with eyes can see there is something wrong with her. As her caretaker in Harry’s absence, Jesse should have taken every precaution with her health. Especially knowing the life-threatening cancer she just faced.

He doesn’t want to scare her, so Louis tries to keep his voice light and even, pushing aside his ranging emotions for the time being. But Louis knows that she’s fading fast and he just wants to keep her cognizant. “It’s ok Aves, you’re going to be ok now.”

Louis uses the intercom system built into his car to call the hospital, the line being answered promptly on the second ring. “Seaside Seattle Medical Center Emergency Room, how may I help you?”

“Yes, hello this is Dr. Tomlinson, can you please page Dr. Horan and Dr. Payne to the ER immediately.”  

“Of course, Doctor. May I ask what it’s pertaining?”

“Just tell them it’s Avery and it’s urgent. I need them waiting outside.” Louis instructs briefly, knowing it’s enough to alarm Liam and Niall’s attention. “I’m 8 minutes from the hospital and I want a team ready for an emergent pediatric patient.”  

“Yes, I’ll page them right away.”

“Thank you.” Louis ends the call on the intercom, focusing his efforts on driving as swiftly and safely as he can.

“Louis…am I…d-dying…” Avery mutters weakly, body quivering in the backseat.

“No…no. Aves, no.” Louis repeats in assurance. He knows that he is never supposed to flat out promise life to a patient, especially when he isn’t 100% sure what’s wrong with her. But this is _Avery_ , he’s talking about. And Louis refuses to let anything happen to her. “Just try to stay awake for me, ok? Can you do that? I know you’re tired and you just want to sleep, but I need you to keep your eyes open. Ok, Aves?”

She nods her head a bit, fighting off the heaviness of her body. “Ok…”

“Ok good, that’s so good, love.” Louis commends, nodding his own head as he keeps on trying to distract her. “Um…so we haven’t gotten to talk in while—how about you tell me about school? Do you like being back in class all the time? It must be nice to hang out with your friends again, right?”

Avery doesn’t answer at all this time, she’s hardly even moving, eyes held open like small slits. Louis’ heart rate is spiked with exceeding worry; she can’t hold on much longer and it seems like all he can do is watch it happen. But Louis refuses to do that, he has to keep trying.

“Aves? Hey—I know it’s hard baby, I know…but please stay awake for me…” Louis keeps his voice as level as possible, but the anxiousness he feels is peeking through. “You have to try and stay awake, ok? Just talk to me. Avery?”

And just like that, a small sigh escapes Avery’s lips as she completely loses consciousness, head lulled against the leather backseat.

“Aves? Avery? Avery!” Louis shouts worriedly, watching her from the rearview mirror. He reaches one hand to the backseat, blindly feeling around for her wrist as he drives. Her pulse is faint and barely perceivable. “ _Shit_!”

If Louis was driving fast before, it’s nothing compared to his rampant driving now. Weaving though traffic at almost dangerous speeds, daring anyone to even attempt to stop him or pull him over. His only priority is getting Avery to the hospital in time.

In what has to be record time, Louis whirls his car to the back emergency room entrance, hardly shifting the gear into park, before hoping out of the vehicle to grab her.

“I need a gurney!” Louis shouts, yanking the passenger door open. “I need it now!”

Awaiting residents and nurses alike all come running out of the sliding doors of the E.R., pushing a gurney outside. Louis lays Avery’s unconscious body down on the stretcher the second the medical staff reach him.

Niall is among the emergency team and he immediately holds an ambu bag to her face, pumping oxygen to start manually resuscitating her body until they get inside. “Louis, what happened?”

“I d-don’t know...” Louis breathes out heavily, profound fear breaking through his voice. “She was barely holding consciousness…and...I tried talking with her—I…but then she…”

“Let’s get her inside.” Niall interrupts, knowing they need to move fast to stabilize her.

Louis and Niall run alongside the gurney, pushing it through the emergency room doors into the hospital.

“Bay 5 is free.” The charge nurse directs, pointing to an open exam room a little ways down the hall.

When they get Avery to the exam room, Louis becomes the epitome of focus and efficiency, trying to pinpoint the issue. Emotions and feelings have no place in emergency medical care; he needs to remain calm and push everything out so he can save her life. Niall assists as they do a quick external assessment, making notes and addendums to Avery’s medical chart.

“How are her vitals?”

The nurses work to stabilize her vitals, hooking her up to machines and setting up IVs in order to start pushing meds and maintain her respiration rate, circulation, body temperature and heart rate. Everyone in the room is shouting out her readings, one after the other, trying to figure out what needs immediate attention.

“Breath signs weak.” Niall announces, listening to her chest for even breathing. “We should intubate.”

“Heart rate low. Pulse faint.”

“Blood pressure is declined, but holding steady for now.”

“Pupils slow, but reactive.” Louis notes, holding one of Avery’s eyes open to shine a direct light over it.

“Sorry! I’m here, what happened?” Liam bursts into the exam room, immediately grabbing a pair of gloves to join his colleagues.

“Possible radial fracture on her right arm.” Niall answers briefly, sounding a bit distracted. “But it’s not as important right now. We still don’t know what caused her to lose consciousness.”

“I want brand new labs and blood work done right now!” Louis orders urgently, filling out the order on his tablet. “Rush the results!”

“Yes, Dr. Tomlinson.” The surrounding residents all nod repeatedly, quickly drawing her blood and gathering all the samples needed to run a complete workup.

“Yeah, it’s definitely fractured. She’ll need a cast.” Liam confirms with a nod, carefully palpating Avery’s forearm. He fashions a temporary stint to hold it in place. “Are you taking her up to imaging right now?”

Louis nods head, throwing his stethoscope back around his neck. “We won’t know anything for sure until we get new scans. She needs a MRI—contrasted this time, something must be missing. There’s something wrong.”

“I think we should also get an EEG and a CT as well to be safe.” Niall adds, making note in her chart.

Louis nods again, using his foot to unlock the wheels of Avery’s hospital bed, beyond ready to get moving. “We need to get her up there now.”

“I’ll go up with you.” Niall offers, raising the side rails of the gurney before helping Louis push it down the hall towards the elevator.

“Page me when you’re done with her scans and I’ll set her arm properly.” Liam calls after them, a worried look etched deeply on his face that matches both Louis and Niall’s. They all know something is wrong, but no one wants to speculate as to what, no one wants to speak it out into the open. All of them hoping that maybe it’s not what they think it is, maybe it’s not that bad, maybe everything will be ok.  

 

 

||☤||

 

“ _Fuck.”_

The imaging room falls deathly quiet as the newly processed brain scans appear one by one on the large screen. Louis and Niall both stare on in absolute horror, paralyzed as their worst fears are actualized.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yun3N6pI128&index=1&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVttT0P7qkn-ACk33Tl0dSdF)

There is more than something wrong. _Everything_ is wrong. Louis thought it might be bad, the whole ride on the elevator his mind was screaming with all the possibilities, but never did he think that it could be this bad.

“Oh…” Louis breathes out slowly, faintly shaking his head in disbelief. “No…no—it? It can’t? No…”

_it can._

As more and more images resolute across the screens, the truth is very much confirmed. Repeatedly. Slamming Louis over and over and over again until he feels utterly nauseous. He wants to close his eyes, close his eyes and maybe when he opens them again, something else will be on the screen.

“Oh my god...” Niall blows out in shock. He’s not a neurosurgeon, but he of course knows just how bad this is, staring at the daunting scans.

Contrasted MRIs bring up way more than a usual scan, often picking up things that could go undetected. And these specific set of scans reveal realities that Louis would rather not bring to the light of reality.

A Grade III Anaplastic Astrocytoma.

A tumor, a massive, angry tumor. A tumor that completely disregards the laws of symmetry, ignoring the natural anatomical borders and parameters, butterflying over portions of both hemispheres of Avery’s cerebrum. An invasive conglomerate of fast-growing toxic cells, universally dreaded due to the way it weaves its way through the integral portions of the brain tissue. In Avery’s case, starting from the prefrontal cortex and extending hungrily all the way to the edge of the hypothalamus.

“No...” Louis staggers backwards a bit in shock, holding a weak hand over his mouth as he shakes his head slowly. “D-Did I miss something? Maybe…I d-didn’t get it all the first time? Maybe— _fuck…_ Maybe…we weren’t aggressive enough…with t-the chemo…maybe we should have combined methotrexate with another d-drug like cisplatin or carboplatin or…o-or…”

“Don’t do that, Louis. Don’t put this on yourself.” Niall stresses seriously, turning towards him. “This is not your fault. You did everything right. These things unfortunately happen. Cancer is so fucking ugly and unpredictable, you know that.”

Louis stands with unfocused eyes, one hand rubbing his temple incessantly as he bites down hard on his lower lip. “I just…I…”

“Louis, you know as well as I do that even the smallest trace of a malignancy can bring the cancer back at full force, faster and even more aggressive than before.”

“But my m-margins were clean…and…and…her scans were clean when we discharged her a few months ago…how h-how?” Louis again shakes his head at a complete loss, just staring unblinkingly at the horrifying scans in front of him as he plays back everything in his mind. “This…I…I…” His voice breaks off, mouth falling dry and useless. Her previous tumor was only a Grade I, reasonably sized and reachable. But this is so much worse than before. The integral placement, the looming size, the calculated integration, the daunting presentation, the sophisticated intelligence of this tumor…

It’s all so much _worse_.

“If there was anything there before you couldn’t have seen it in time. You didn’t know. I didn’t know.” Niall tries again, skin having turned as pale and ghastly as a ghost. “We gave her the dosage her body could take, we treated her to the very best of our ability. This was completely out of your control.”

Louis stares, just stares at the condemning screens before him. Willing them to be wrong, willing them to magically morph, to wishfully change into the perfect depiction of health. To display perfect, untarnished brain tissue.

This isn’t fair. This isn’t just or warranted. This is cruel—life is _cruel_.

He drops his heavy body down into one of the rolling chairs, holding his head in his hands as he tries to take in deep breaths, breaths that refuse to come easily.

“It’s ok to cry, Lou.” Niall says gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She’s more to you than just a patient. It’s ok to cry.” 

Louis knows it’s ok to cry, he knows that maybe it’s even appropriate to cry. But he doesn’t cry. He can’t cry. After all he has sustained in his lifetime if he started crying now, he’d probably never stop. So Louis doesn’t cry. He _doesn’t_. Not since he was a terrified seventeen-year-old kid and—not for years. He refuses.

_don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry_

“Lou, are you alright?” Niall worries, placing a warm palm on Louis’ shoulder as he kneels down next to his friend.

Louis offers no answer, sitting motionless with a hand pressed against the scan on the screen. This girl has already been through so much, so much underserved pain and suffering. She is a warrior, a survivor. She faced and overcame major brain surgery, completed rounds of chemotherapy only to be put right back in an even worse spot than before at only eight-years-old. How is this justified? How can anyone cope with this?

“All we can do now is move forward.” Niall comforts positively, although his voice is solemn and unsteady. “We will run some more tests, get a full view of this thing…and once the new labs come in, we will work on developing a new plan of action for her.”

 _that’s not good enough_.

Louis needs someone to blame this on. He needs a way to deflect this, a place to target his frustrations. Why wasn’t Avery checked in sooner? Maybe Louis could have done something— _anything_ , if she was only brought in just a little bit sooner. There is no way in hell she wasn’t showing some kind of symptoms before a few hours ago. Why didn’t someone notice and take her in for a check up? Why did this take so long to discover?

Suddenly Louis remembers Avery’s faint words whispered earlier in the car.

_i told him i didn’t feel good…i told him…_

 Jesse.

Fucking Jesse.

“Oh, I have a plan alright.” Louis seethes through his clenched teeth as he hops up onto his feet and storms out of the imaging room.

“Louis? Louis, where are you going?” Niall calls behind him, but Louis doesn’t give two fucks. He is livid, hyped up on nothing but all-consuming indignation.

Louis rages through the hospital, taking his steps two at a time, continually fueled on pure anger and resentment. It only takes a matter of minutes, it seems, before Louis has reached the usually somber waiting area.

“You fucking asshole!” Louis shouts furiously across the waiting room, storming in recklessly, filled with blind fury. Medical personnel and awaiting patient family, all turn their heads in alarm. “She told you that she wasn’t feeling well! That she was sick and lightheaded and you fucking sent her to school anyway!”

Jesse looks up from his phone as Louis approaches him wildly, sitting with crossed legs in a chair at the far corner of the open space. “Wha—”

“She’s _sick_!” Louis screams angrily before Jesse can even think about asking a question. He knows he is being irrational, he knows a few days couldn’t have prevented any of this, but he needs an outlet for his frustrations, he needs to find blame in someone and Jesse is by far the guiltiest party. Avery needlessly suffered because of his carelessness and Louis cannot and will not let that go by uncontested. “Her condition is delicate and can change at any time!” 

“She was fine!” Jesse defends, standing to his feet. “You already got her tumor—”

“She was fine?! Oh, she was _FINE_?” Louis mocks brashly, face-to-face with Jesse. “Are you a doctor now?! You go to medical school, pal?!”

Jesse stutters unintelligibly, shaking his head as he backs away from Louis nervously.

“Oh, no? I didn’t think so, you piece of shit!” Louis roars, pressing forward brazenly. “She has another fucking tumor and who knows what could have happened if—” 

“Louis, come on. Stop.” Niall locks his arms around Louis’ swinging body, holding him back as he continues to fight. Louis hadn’t even noticed that he followed him all the way here. “This isn’t helping. It’s not his fault.”

Louis wiggles his way out of Niall’s hold, pressing closer to Jesse. “If Harry knew about what you did—”

“It’s not your place to tell him.” Jesse argues back boldly, leaning into Louis in challenge.

“Not _my_ place?!” Louis shrieks furiously, lunging at Jesse again with nothing but irate malice in his gaze. He could choke Jesse, he could choke him and sleep easily at night. Fuck the medical oath, fuck do no harm, fuck it all. “I’ll tell you what my fucking place is jackass—” 

“Louis!” Niall uses his entire body to drag him backwards, tightening his arms around Louis’ thrashing body. Louis has already made quite a scene, but he couldn’t care less. “It’s not worth it.” He whispers, holding Louis back. “Come on, you can’t help her if you lose your medical license.”

“Fuck you, Jesse!” Louis spits angrily, reluctantly allowing Niall to slowly pull his body out of the waiting room. “Fuck you…” 

Once a safe distance away, Niall cautiously lets him go, releasing his vice grip from a struggling Louis. “Walk it off, Lou.”

“I’m fine, ok? I’m good. _Fuck_.” Louis brushes him off, holding up his arms. He is breathing heavily as he walks down the hall, adrenaline spiked in his veins. His fists are still clenched and he has such a strong urge to just lash out and punch something. Louis settles for kicking a lone cart against the wall, knocking a tray of supplies down as he makes his way down the hall. “ _FUCK_!”

He decides to go down to The Pit, maybe help out there as best he can and make himself useful in some way. Distractions are good, it’ll keep his mind busy if he stays busy—if he stays moving. Louis slips on a yellow trauma gown, tying the loops behind his back over his scrubs.

The adrenaline and rush of emotion has left his system and now he stands void of any tangible and identifiable feeling. Louis stands in the middle of the emergency room, hardly aware of his surroundings, hardly aware of much of anything.

“Oh hey, Dr. Tomlinson!” A resident calls. “I rounded on all your post-op and pre-op patients just like you asked…”

Louis stares off blankly, gazing right through the resident standing in front of him.

“One of the post-ops—a spinal tumor resection…He erm coded while you were gone—I mean he’s fine now, but um I think he might be going into renal failure…so General is taking over his case, but I thought you should know.”

Louis can’t move. All he can think about is the fact that his Avery is sick once again and somehow he is going to have to muster up the strength to tell Harry. Harry who probably expected to come home to his healthy daughter, Harry who can’t take another loss—not one like this, not like _this_ …

“These are his post-op scans and—Dr. Tomlinson?”

Still in a trance, Louis remains utterly soundless. He can’t get his mind to focus on anything, everything sounds like blurred static to his ears. He vaguely feels his hands start shaking at his sides, his legs feel faint and his breathing is erratic.

“Dr. Tomlinson, are you ok? You look a bit pale…do you want to sit down, I—”

“No, no…I’m ok…I’m…” Louis trails off as he forces his mind to somewhat register at least a few of the words that previously came out of the resident’s mouth. “Erm—ok right uh…thanks for the update. Keep up the good uh w-work yeah—thanks…” He stutters weakly, stripping off the gown he just put on, as he stumbles for the exit.

Louis hardly knows what he just said, but he doesn’t care. All he knows is he can’t be here right now, he can’t practice medicine right now, in fact he can hardly breathe right now, the weight of seemingly a thousand problems pelting down at his back. Louis rides the service elevator all the way to the roof, staggering in a new breath as the fresh Seattle air hits his face.

And Louis stands there alone on the center of the roof, hunched over his knees as he forces himself to take in repeated breaths. His mind races as he tries to figure out how to tell a weary father of a sick child that the war he thought they won isn’t over, that the peace he thought he had is all in vain, that his hellish nightmare lives on.

That the world is very much still on fire and Louis has no idea how extinguish the flames.

 


	8. eight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter youtube [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVt-WzJ4BcMge870M5fvoXpH).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey friends! I've had another organized and productive week yaaay. however this is the namesake chapter so its a lot to say the least :'( but i won't say more than that...
> 
> thank you for all your comments and support, i love reading your thoughts and i love all of you :))
> 
> love lex .x

_a heart shattered too many times to number._  

||✚||

 

“I’m here! I’m here!” Harry shouts urgently, running up to the nurses’ station, panting. “What happened? Where’s my daughter? Is she ok? Where is she? I need—”

“Sir, sir please calm down.” The nurse soothes, standing to her feet to address him.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fBb5HQCqnXw&index=2&t=0s&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVt-WzJ4BcMge870M5fvoXpH)

Harry looks around madly, eyes darting and panicked. He can’t calm down—how can he be expected to fucking calm down? He rushed across the entire west coast after getting a vague call from SSMC that his daughter had been hospitalized. Jesse sent him a few texts, but as he is not her legal guardian, the hospital didn’t release any new information to him. “Is she back there? Is she alright?”  

“Sir, what’s your daughter’s name?” The nurse behind the desk asks gently. Her eyes are kind and genuine, watching Harry with concern.

“A-Avery.” Harry stutters, hands trembling as he cards them through his disheveled hair anxiously. He feels the prickle of tears already building in his eyes, pure fear overtaking his entire body in the form of uncertainty. “Avery Styles. S-she’s…she’s eight y-years old and—” 

“Harry?”

“ _Jesse.”_ Harry sighs at the sound of a familiar voice, collapsing heavily into his fiancé’s arms the second he sees him. He buries his head into the crook of Jesse’s neck, hoping it will somehow ground him enough to push through this. “What h-happened? All they told me is that she’d been admitted and…and that they c-can’t release medical information over the phone.”

“I don’t know, babe.” Jesse runs his hands up and down Harry’s back gently. “I don't know, she was feeling ill at school and I went to get her—”

“Loui—Dr. Tomlinson!” Harry’s eyes instantly widen as he spots Louis walking towards them over Jesse’s shoulder. He slinks out of Jesse’s arms to meet up with Louis instead. “Where is Avie? Is she ok? What happened to her?”

Louis’ whole body is stiff and tense, as though he is using all his energy to contain himself. Yet despite the rigidity of his body, his eyes are far more vulnerable and deeply sad. “She is stable for now, but...” He glances at Jesse as he pauses, the two of them making charged eye contact. Harry looks between them trying to figure out what’s going on, but his head is spinning and shouting and he can’t focus on anything but the _but_ Louis’ sentence ended on. Louis slightly shakes his head as if decisively clearing his mind. “Um, let’s go somewhere quieter. Please follow me.”

Harry feels Jesse take his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze as they silently follow Louis to a vacant conference room.

“Have a seat.” Louis instructs, holding the door open for them, digital chart clutched to his chest.

Harry and Jesse take a seat next to each other at the long table, Louis sitting across from them. His face is unreadable and essentially void of emotion except when Harry meets his eyes. Louis’ eyes tell a story, they always do. The sapphire blue of his irises give him away every time. They depict sadness, a heavy despondency mixed with traces of lingering anger, and Harry knows without a shadow of a doubt that there is something he’s not saying, something he’s purposefully holding back.

“Louis, what is it? Just tell us.” Harry urges in desperation. The longer he has to wait, the more he internally loses it. Piece by piece, he can feel himself slowly crumbling apart from the inside out.

Louis’ jaw tenses, he looks down for a moment, seeming to collect himself before he looks up again, taking a deep, self-soothing breath. “Harry…” His gaze wanders to Jesse momentarily, growing cold and harsh before he meets Harry’s eyes with sudden warmth and empathy. “There is no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come out and say it straightaway.” If possible Louis’ eyes manage to soften even more as he speaks directly to Harry, voice incredibly gentle. “Avery has another tumor. Her cancer is back.” 

Harry blinks several times in confused disbelief, a million questions swarming his mind at once. He thought they were past this, that they got over the hardest part. Yes, Harry worries about his daughter falling ill again constantly, but those are supposed to be irrational fears, not realities. She should be cured and healed and _whole_ again. Avery’s surgery had been a success and she’d been following the post operative treatment and attending chemotherapy sessions regularly up until she was discharged a few months ago, which was supposed to signify the end of all this.

_how? how is this happening again?_

“But I thought...I t-thought—” Harry stutters out, head subconsciously shaking with confusion. He feels Jesse place a calming palm over his back, scooting in closer as he rubs small circles along his spine. “I thought you…”

Louis nods in understanding, seeming to perceive all of Harry’s worries despite his lack of actual communication. “During Avery’s last surgery, I was able to resect the entirety of the tumor, at least what was perceivable at the time. But with a cancer like this, as unfortunately aggressive as this, new anaplastic cells can manifest rapidly, sometimes undetected.” He explains using his professional doctor voice, but his eyes never leave Harry’s as he speaks in gentle tones. “The severity of your daughter’s new tumor is still being scoped out using contrasted scans with higher resolution. Dr. Horan and I, as well as our best oncologists are working on a plan of treatment. I assure you we will do everything within our power to treat her.” 

“Oh god...” Harry inhales shakily, covering his mouth with a single hand and closing his tearful eyes. Jesse comforts him while Louis averts his eyes to his tablet. “Is s-she ok? Like right now? Is she in any p-pain?” He asks in a weak, terrified voice, choking on a sob as he slowly opens his eyes again. “She must be so…s-scared...”

“We’ve given her several medications, so she isn’t in any pain.” Louis replies gently, head tilted to the side in earnest. “Avery is stable for now and we are currently monitoring her and performing more lab work to assess the severity of the situation so we can appropriately decide on what our next move should be.”

Harry nods slowly, silent tears pooling at his eyes. This is more than he could have ever expected walking into this hospital. During the entirety of Harry’s last minute flight from L.A., he refused to let himself drudge up the worst possible scenario, trying to remain optimistic. But maybe he should have, maybe he should have carefully mapped out all that could potentially be wrong with his daughter, maybe it would have prepared him for this. The horrifying strain of this situation tears through Harry’s already weak heart, ripping each individual chamber apart cruelly.

 “Um…” Louis falters slightly, glancing down for a moment. “Avery also broke her arm—”

“What?” Harry gasps, falling pale all over again. A broken arm is nothing compared to cancer, but Harry still can’t help but freak out over it, as any parent would. He looks over to his fiancé in confusion, silently wondering how this could be.

Jesse only shrugs, looking down in his lap and Louis narrows his eyes at him pointedly.

“It was my understanding that she was feeling lightheaded at school and she collapsed. The fall fractured her arm.” Louis continues, still essentially shooting daggers at Jesse with his eyes. “She’s ok now, Dr. Payne set the fracture in a cast.”

Harry looks between them a few times, brow still pulled into a deep-set frown as his attention settles on Jesse. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

Louis keeps glaring at Jesse in silence, gaze growing fiercer by the second. His hands are tightly clamped together on the table as his lip seems to almost twitch in a snarl. He is daring Jesse to say something, but Jesse avoids any and all eye contact with him, fidgeting to himself.

“Harry, I think you should know that I picked Avery up from school today and brought her here.” Louis announces suddenly, turning his head to face him. He looks like he wants to say more but cuts himself short.

Harry frowns in confusion, eyebrow pulled. “You did? But…?”

“She wanted…” Jesses sighs in frustration, reluctant to speak. “Um—she was asking for only Louis.”

Harry gazes at Louis at a loss. He didn’t have to do that. Yes, he is her doctor and he is on her release forms, but that is going above and beyond his responsibilities. He and Louis aren’t on the best of terms and yet he still came through for her, and Harry couldn’t be more thankful that he came to her aid regardless. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t.

“Louis, _thank you_.” Harry exhales in devout gratitude, shaking his head. “Thank you so much—you didn’t have to…I um—thank you.”

Louis nods his head in understanding, reaching over to give Harry’s free hand a quick reassuring squeeze. They hold each other’s gaze for a moment and Harry finds himself not wanting to look away. He does though—he has to, otherwise he will surely get lost in the strength lined in Louis’ calming blue eyes and it’s not Harry’s to rely on.

“But it couldn’t have just started this afternoon right? The symptoms, I mean? She must have been presenting some signs earlier…” Harry turns towards Jesse again, brain working on overdrive as he tries desperately hard to understand what happened. “Did you see anything off about her, Jes? Did she say anything to you? She’s always so vocal about what’s bothering her, it’s not like her to hide it...”

“I...um...I don’t…” Jesse mumbles, chancing a glance at Louis who looks like he is physically biting his tongue to the point of drawing blood, entire body painfully tensed with his arms crossed over his chest.

Harry silently directs his question towards Louis, locking onto his eyes once more. Louis knows the answer, Harry knows he does. He can see it on Louis’ face as clear as day.

“Her symptoms would have presented prior to this afternoon, yes.” Louis confirms, displaying a restraint Harry still doesn’t understand.

Harry looks back to his fiancé, brows furrowed into a confused frown. He trusted Jesse to follow through with what needed to be done while he was away, he took ample precautions and he went far beyond what was necessary to insure it would be easy for Jesse to care for his daughter. And Avery is far from a difficult child anyway, she’s polite and obedient and as sweet as can be, she wouldn’t make up stories to get out of school because she loves her second grade class, it’s almost all she talks about. But if something is bothering Avery, she’ll say it, and if she doesn’t right away, it’s easy to tell from her expressive face. So why then did she need to be picked up from school in the first place, why was she even at school at all? “Were you not watching her, Jesse? I told you—”

“I was, babe…of course I was. I read all your notes and I did everything you told me—and I’m here for you.” Jesse assures, redirecting the accusatory question and instead attempting to offer Harry comfort. He takes both of Harry’s trembling hands, squeezing them gently. “What do you need, Harry? What can I do for you? Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

Maybe that should be a sweet gesture, maybe it was meant to distract Harry from the fact that Jesse is avoiding his original question or maybe it really was meant to be supportive. But regardless of the intention, Harry finds no comfort in his fiancé’s words or actions whatsoever. His mind is a whirlwind of confusion, overloaded on more unexpected information than he can realistically handle right now and he doesn’t know what he wants or what to ask for. Honestly, Harry could hardly say what day it is in confidence.

And maybe Harry expects too much, or maybe he has become accustomed to not expecting enough, but he shouldn’t have to always spell out his needs. Not to the person who is supposed to be his other half. He should know how to make Harry feel better, Jesse should _know_ how to offer him some semblance of peace in the midst of a storm.

But he doesn’t.

Harry shakes his head at a complete loss, looking down at his still unsteady hands folded limply into Jesse’s. The lingering tears in his eyes start to build up again, trickling down his cheeks as his body starts to truly register what all this means. His Avie, his little innocent baby isn’t out of the woods. There’s yet another chance that he could lose her and he isn’t ready to face that kind of reality right now. It doesn’t make sense, none of this makes any sense to him at all.

_she was ok…she’s supposed to be ok…_

“Would you maybe like to see her? Avery?” Louis offers gently, voice so soft and warm, Harry wants to wrap himself in it like a soothing blanket. “I know you must be anxious to be with her. I can take you right now, if you like.”

Harry lifts his teary eyes, nodding slowly as he sniffles. That’s all he needs right now, to be with his daughter again. He just needs to see her, more than anything else.

“Ok. I’ll take you.” Louis promises, watching Harry closely as though he’s afraid Harry might break down further at any moment. And he’s not wrong, Harry feels like his heart is composed of hundreds of frail fragments held together feebly by a single stitch. A stitch that’s already on the verge of tearing at the seams.

As they begin to leave the conference room, the three of them hardly make it out of the door before Jesse’s phone starts going off repeatedly. He pulls it out of his pocket, reading over his new messages.

Jesse lifts his head from his phone, turning to Harry apologetically and the sad thing is Harry already knows what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Babe, I hate to leave you right now but…uh it’s work—we have a really big case—”

“Are you fucking serious?” Louis blurts uncontrollably in distaste, once again glowering at Jesse malevolently. But he doesn’t say more, instead taking a quick breath and walking off to the side to give them space to talk privately. Harry has never once seen Louis react that negatively towards anyone, he’s always so kind and thoughtful. Of course Harry has seen Louis get annoyed, but there is actual venom behind his tone that’s utterly uncharacteristic for him and it makes Harry wonder what may have transpired between them.

“I’m really sorry, Harry. They need me.” Jesse apologizes, taking Harry’s hand and giving it a squeeze that is supposedly meant to comfort him, but he feels anything but comforted.

And what’s worse is that Harry doesn’t have it in him to fight his fiancé on this right now, to point out that maybe he needs him too and his needs should come first, especially at a time like this. Harry hardly has the conviction inside himself to even be properly annoyed, he doesn’t have the strength to beg Jesse to stay, he doesn’t have the will to convince him to ignore his fucking job for once and _really_ comfort him. He just doesn’t have the energy to care anymore, so instead he just nods with a bowed head.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can…I promise.” Jesse insists, leaning in to kiss Harry’s cheek.

Harry hardly so much as feels it.

 

||✚||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-EMU7MC1RQ&t=0s&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVt-WzJ4BcMge870M5fvoXpH&index=6)

“Avie, baby.” Harry whispers gently as he rushes into the room, immediately taking hold of her free hand, the one not bandaged up in a yellow cast. Louis had led him up to Avery’s room, but left to give them a bit of privacy. And just seeing her small body alone in the hospital bed, stings Harry’s eyes and he just wants to collapse on the cold, hard floor and cry.

“Daddy…” Avery rasps, smiling weakly. Her eyes are barely open enough to see him, breathing heavily labored. She’s got oxygen tubes strung from her nose, hooked behind her ears and she looks so horribly tired, so unlike the bright eyed girl he loves. “I missed you…”

“Oh I missed you too, sweetheart. I missed you so much.” Harry breathes out, lifting her hand to his lips. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. God, I’m so sorry, Munchie. I came as fast as I could.”

“It’s ok...” Avery tries to squeeze his hand back, but she doesn’t have it in her. “I’m glad…you’re here now.”

“I’m here, I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Harry trails his palm down her cheek, cupping it to her face. His already stinging eyes are burning now, just seeing his daughter like this, so helpless and so scared.

“It hurts, Daddy…” Avery faintly whispers. She’s fighting tears and Harry can’t hold his own back anymore. “It really h-hurts…” 

“I know baby, I know.” Harry coos gently, cupping the side of her head, wishing he could take her pain away. It hurts him to see her like this, weak and hurting, body rallying against her. It’s frustrating as a parent to be so powerless in all this, having no control or say in the matter—unable to provide a tangible sense of relief. All his heart can do is repeatedly break for his child. “I’m sorry Avie, I’m so sorry.”

“Her drip must be wearing off.” Dr. Wesley notes, having overheard Avery from just outside the door. “I was just coming in to adjust her levels and check her vitals again.” She sets about adjusting Avery’s pain meds accordingly, fiddling with her central line while also taking note of her hourly vital stats.

“Daddy…can you…hold me?” Avery murmurs quietly in slow breath once Dr. Wesley is done.

Harry looks to Dr. Wesley for approval, not wanting to disturb any of the wires and tubes that he knows must be important, even though he has no idea what they’re all for.

Dr. Wesley nods her head sympathetically. “That’s fine, you can hold her—just be careful of her drip and pulse oximeter.”

Slowly, Harry climbs into the hospital bed with his daughter, carefully pulling her light frame against his chest, paying careful attention not to twist or cut off any of Avery’s vital connections. She curls snugly against him and Harry has to choke back an overpowering sob as he feels just how light she has gotten in the short time he was away. She was once his beautiful healthy baby girl, she was bright and happy, always bursting with seeming never-ending energy, and now she’s so unnervingly frail and fragile. Harry holds his baby like she’s made of the faintest glass, deathly afraid of causing her any more pain.

“Daddy…you know…how you…always…talk about…your trips to…Europe?” Avery whispers, one word at a time against his chest.

“Mhmm.” Harry hums gently, cheek pressed against the top of her head.

“Well…when this is all over…can we…get away?” Avery asks and her voice is but a rasp. “I want…I want to see…France…”

“Oh, I promise Aviebug, I promise...” Harry nods adamantly as steady but silent tears roll down his cheeks. He rubs soothing circles against her back, comforting her as gently as he can.

“Can you…tell me about it…again?” Avery requests, curled to her father’s chest with her eyes closed. Avery always likes to hear about Harry’s travels during his early twenties, she never gets tired of listening to Harry recount the many adventures and memories of his early adulthood.

“Yeah, of course I can.” Harry agrees, willing to do anything to soothe and distract her, even if only for a passing moment. “Oh, you would love it there, Munchie. France in the summer is absolutely magical. I stayed in the southern part of the country for awhile…and it was beautiful because the air always smelled of lavender—lavender and love.”

Avery peeks up at him, opening her eyes. “Were you…in love?”

Harry pauses in consideration. “Not in France, no—I mean…I was in love with the country, but not anyone in particular.”

“Do you know…what being in love…feels like?”

She’s never once asked him any of this before, and Harry has to wonder what brought the question on. But as Avery’s always been so curious about everything, perhaps it was really only a matter of time. “Yes…yeah, I do…”

When Harry thinks about falling in love, it’s not the romantic nuances of Parisian culture that he thinks of first as he once did in the past. Back then he wanted to see the world through the softest shades of euphoric, perfect pink, _voir la vie en rose._ But Harry soon learned that the world isn’t bathed in blush tones and soft ideals, and without rose-colored glasses to paint his perspective, the concept of falling and being in love no longer seemed as sweet or attainable, just a coveted, unrealistic notion.

And in a sense, Harry left France unsatisfied because he knew from experience that the world is such an unforgivingly cruel place, filled with more heartbreak than adolescent dreams of rosy-hued love. But it only took meeting a specific person to change all of that and prove to Harry that the wonderful feeling of falling in love is so much deeper than any of his preconceived twenty-year-old notions.

So now, when Harry thinks of the feeling of being truly in love, it’s not a specific word he thinks of, it’s a collection of feelings that can’t be contained by the confines of the English or even the French language. He thinks of drunken embarrassing stories paired with ice cream and horribly cheap wine. The overwhelming feeling of safety and acceptance behind his favorite pair of warm blue eyes. Getting rained on and utterly drenched for the sake of a really good conversation under the stars, followed by blissful laughter that easily rolls on into the early morning. The feeling of knowing life is hard and full of great disappointments and let downs, but in his strong arms, under his welcome gaze, the world is also perfectly pink and beautifully soft and wondrously euphoric after all.  

“Falling in love is like a dream you never want to wake up from.” Harry whispers, exhaling a wistful, almost inherently euphoric breath as he thinks back on the first and maybe even the only time he has ever truly been in love with someone.

“And…that’s how…you felt about…France?” Avery wonders, watching him curiously.

“Uh yeah…France…” Harry nods slowly, pushing aside his unexpected newfound realization for now.

“Say something in French, Daddy…” Avery requests, small hand over his heart. “I think…it’s beautiful…when you say it...” Harry would speak in French to her sometimes when she was little, especially when she would cry. He’d whisper comforting phrases here and there and it always soothed her somehow.

“Um...I’m very rusty but uh…” Harry pauses to think of what he wants to say to her, and the perfect words don’t take long to come to him. “ _Tant que je vis, tu as mon cœur, mon bel amour.”_

“What does that mean?” She wonders quietly.

“Erm something like, _as long as I live, you have my heart, my beautiful love_.” Harry whispers softly to her, pressing his lips to her temple.  

Avery’s pale face warms up a bit as she smiles up at him. “ _Je t’aime, papa.”_

“Ooh look at you, little bug.” Harry awes in gentle surprise, kissing her cheeks this time. “We should get you French lessons, yeah?”

 _“Oui.”_ Avery nods her head as best she can.

“Actually, I should probably take the lessons with you, otherwise you’ll be speaking better French than me. And we can’t have that.” Harry grins, resting his cheek back down against her head. “Then you’ll be all set for our trip together.”

“I can’t wait to go, Daddy...” She whispers weakly, eyes falling closed again with sudden exhaustion.

“We’ll have so much fun, Avie…” Harry promises, voice just above a whisper as he holds her close, trying to repel the tears from springing back to his eyes. With everything he has inside, he wants that with Avery—to escape with her. He wishes they could just leave all this behind and go right now, he wishes it didn’t have to be like this for his sweet girl. “Just you and me, baby. Just you and me…” 

“You…and…me…” Avery repeats in a quiet rasp, head lulling to the side with fatigue. She sucks in a few staggered breaths before her eyes roll back suddenly and her whole body begins to shake violently, spasming out in an unexpected seizure.

“Avery!” Harry shrieks at the convulsing child in his arms. His own body goes into a state of nearly paralyzed shock, having absolutely no idea what to do. The monitors around the room start beeping and raging in an uproar.

“Page Dr. Tomlinson!” Dr. Wesley shouts to the nurses outside as she rushes urgently into the room.

“Oh my god, what’s happening to h-her? She was fine—she was talking and t-then she started…s-she started s-shaking…” Harry stutters, tears pricking at his wide eyes as he sets Avery down gently and slides off the bed to give Dr. Wesley space to work. She lowers the bed, laying Avery back as flat as possible.

It feels so familiar and he hates it, he hates that he has been here before. He hates that he has seen this before, that he knows what happens next. This moment eerily parallels one of the worst moments of his life, far too similar to be overlooked. His hands start to tremble, his heart racing wildly.

“Did I?...Did I do s-something?” Harry panics, chest starting to rise and fall rapidly. “When I h-held her—I don’t know? Is it m-my fault…I—”

“No. No, Mr. Styles, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Dr. Wesley assures frantically, holding Avery on her side. She looks unsure, nervous—like she isn’t exactly sure what her next move should be. “We need a crash cart in here!”

Within moments, a response team floods into the room, assembling around the young doctor waiting for instruction on how to proceed, but Dr. Wesley doesn’t make a single command.

“Doctor, her seizures persist. How do you want to proceed?” The nurse asks quickly, looking to Dr. Wesley.

“I…um...I…” Dr. Wesley’s eyes are wide as she looks up. Her eyes lock with Harry and she almost looks as terrified and stunned as Harry feels and the uncertainty in her gaze scares him even more. It’s almost like she is giving Harry an apologetic expression, opening her mouth to speak, but only fragments tumbling out. “I…uh I—I…”

“Doctor?” Another nurse prompts in urgency.

Harry starts shaking his head, feeling his body start to crumble with unbearable amounts of panic. Heaving, his chest is _heaving_ —hurling so aggressively, he is almost swept off his unstable feet with the force of it.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8lWIDya_yA&t=0s&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVt-WzJ4BcMge870M5fvoXpH&index=4)

Louis must not have been very far away because like some kind of guardian angel, he appears almost in an instant, rushing into the stressful room. Harry nearly faints with relief at just the sight of him. If there is anyone Harry trusts in this world, it’s Louis.

_louis will fix this_

His expression is serious, nothing but stern focus piercing his gaze. He immediately looks to the intern standing along the bedside. “Wesley, what happened?”

“I-I..I don’t know exactly—she j-just…” Wesley stammers, fish-mouthing at a complete loss as Louis rushes to the bed.

“Move.” Louis snaps, no patience or time for her hesitant muttering. He takes Dr. Wesley’s place, holding Avery as steady as possible on her side. “How long has she been seizing?”

“Nearly two minutes now, Dr. Tomlinson.” A nurse answers promptly.

“Push phenolbarbital  _now_.” Louis orders urgently, taking control of the room.

_he’ll fix it, he’ll fix it, he’ll fix it_

“Louis, you h-have to fix her ok…you…y-you have to—please Louis,  _p-please…”_ Harry forces the words out, hoping they somehow form a coherent sentence. He feels the blurry rush of water angrily running down his cheeks—when did he start crying? How long has he been crying?

“Harry, calm down.” Louis tries, unable to divide his focus away to look up at him. “I’ll do everything I can.”

“No change, Doctor. Seizures persist and her airway is compromised.”

“Push another dose.” Louis instructs the nurse, attempting to get a good look at Avery’s pupils.

There are suddenly so many people in the room, so many people focused on Avery, on saving her life. Even with all the medical staff crowding Avery’s bed, dutifully following orders and protocols, Harry can still see glimpses of his daughter’s tremoring body, still convulsing so violently on her side.

Harry tries to calm himself down, but a million possibilities swarm his mind and all of the outcomes seem to end the same way. The last time he watched someone he loves seize, it was the last time he ever saw her alive and now here he is again and—

“Oh my god…” Harry gasps out on unsteady legs, feeling so very nauseous as the full weight of the situation crashes into him. His eyes burn with the presence of more tears, hands shaking uselessly at his side.

“Harry, you have to go.” Louis warns seriously, looking up for only a fraction of a second to meet Harry’s frantic eyes. “You shouldn’t be here—can someone please escort the patient’s father out of the room?”

“N-No…I’m not l-leaving her—I c-can’t leave her… I can’t—” Harry shakes his head wildly, tears coming heavier and heavier. He looks back at Avery and her seizures seem to have ceased with the administration of the drug Louis ordered, but from the look on the nurse’s face, all is certainly not well.

“She’s coding, Dr. Tomlinson!”

“Start compressions and charge the paddles!” Louis instructs in urgency as shock pads are laid down over Avery’s chest. Dr. Wesley applies continuous compressions to her chest while Louis takes the paddles from the cart and moves into position. “Clear!”

Maybe it’s the stress of the situation, the machines blaring emergency warnings throughout the room incessantly, the doctors and nurses scrambling and shouting orders in the hopes of making a difference to his daughter’s current spiraling condition. Or maybe it’s a latent guilt that’s been built up over so many years, regret convicting him mercilessly, but suddenly Harry feels like an emotional dam inside him is breaking.

“L-Louis, you h-have to…to s-save her please Louis…I’m s-sorry, I’m so sorry for everything—for how I acted...I was selfish and I…I…” Harry sobs hysterically. He is losing it, he can physically feel himself losing it the longer he watches his daughter spasm and shudder, the longer he watches the machines monitoring her vitals angrily scream out into the tense room. Maybe if he can make Louis understand, if Harry can somehow repent of all his transgressions against him, it will somehow save his daughter. “ _Fuck_ —I’m sorry L-Louis… I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry, p-please…”

“Will someone please take him out of the goddamn room!?” Louis shouts again as he takes over compressions for Dr. Wesley. The machines are all still going off, nothing they’re doing seeming to help in any way.

“Right away, Dr. Tomlinson.” A nurse nods, turning to Harry. “Sir, I’m going to have to escort you out.” She places a hand on his forearm, gently attempting to guide him backwards to the exit. But Harry isn’t having it, he yanks his arm away from her, moving deeper into the room.

“No! No!” Harry protests, swiping at his profusely crying eyes. He doesn’t know what else he can say, what else he can do. His mind is completely fogged, pounding along to the repetitive beep of his daughter’s critically distressed heart. “Lou—L-Louis _please…_ no—you can’t l-let her d-die… you c-can’t...” He rambles through his sobs, emotions everywhere at once. His voice only grows more desperate, frantic to the point of not making sense. All he knows is that he doesn’t want the last memory of his daughter to be the same as the last memory of his sister. “Louis— _fuck…_ I’m…I’m sorry for e-everything—I d-didn’t mean it, I didn’t m-mean any of it…I d-didn’t mean to…to h-hurt you—I’m s-sorry, sorry—please y-you have to s-save her…”

“Still no sinus rhythm, Doctor.” The nurse announces, watching the EKG readings.

“Push one Epi and let’s go again.” Louis decides, looking at the heart rhythms on the screen as he continues to make great effort in avoiding Harry in favor of trying to focus.

“Louis, please! I should h-have never left—I…I s-shouldn’t have—I’m so sorry…” Harry sobs brokenly as two nurses struggle to drag his unwilling body from the room. He continues to fight against them, refusing to leave.

“Get him the fuck out of here!” Louis roars loudly, squeezing his eyes shut in concentration. “I can’t think!”

“Mr. Styles, please.” One of the nurses tries again. “You can’t be in here. It’s not helping.”

“No!  _Avery_!” Harry screams out in pain as all the fight leaves his body at once and he can only break down in tearful sobs. The nurses who were once attempting to drag him out of the room, wrap their arms around him in support as they carefully lead him away, further and further away from his Avie. And all the while, the same looming question burns throughout his mind.

_what if this is the very last time i ever see her alive…_

 

||☤||

 

“Where are those labs!?” Louis yells out, desperately attempting to pinpoint his thoughts. It’s too much, it’s all too fucking much. With Avery seizing for no apparent reason and then going into cardiac arrest and Harry crying and begging in his ear—it’s  _too_ much. Louis can handle pressure, in fact, he is known to handle high stress situations well, but throw Harry into the mix and suddenly Louis can hardly think straight. “Did we ever get the results—”

“Tomlinson! I’ve got her lab work.” Niall bursts into the patient room urgently. “We don’t have much time because—oh _shit_ …” His voice drops off as he registers the scene before him, whatever fearful news he was bringing, actualized before his eyes. “Her CSF levels are way too high. We have to alleviate the pressure.”

“Hydrocephalus…her tumor is impeding the flow from her brain—she needs a shunt.” Louis decides, fully aware that the pressure of a Cerebral Spinal Fluid build up could kill her if left untreated. If they don’t move fast, she’ll only begin to seize again and again until she completely exhausts her body to unrepairable levels. “Call the O.R., tell them we’re coming, prep for a spinal diversion.”

“I’ll scrub in with you to assist.” Niall offers, running alongside Louis as they start to move the hospital bed towards the elevators.

“Dr. Tomlinson, can I come with you?” Charlie asks, following behind them. “I’ve never seen a pediatric diversion before and—”

“Go sit with Har—the patient’s father.” Louis orders, without turning around.

Charlie opens her mouth to persist. “But Dr. Tomlinson—” 

“Wesley, you’re my intern and I said to go out there and make sure the patient’s father is ok.” Louis interjects sternly, briefly facing Charlie only to look her dead in the eye. “Can you handle that?”

“Erm…y-yes, sir.” She stutters, nodding her head and moving out of Louis and Niall’s way.

They rush Avery to surgery as fast as humanly possible, a surgical team already assembled and prepped for her unplanned surgery. From scrubbing in to gowning up to standing alongside the operating table opening Avery up for the second time, Louis can’t seem to wrap his mind around what’s happening, functioning on autopilot like a muscle memory. And it doesn’t help that Harry’s screaming cries still puncture his ears on a loop.

It’s not all that surprising when Louis thinks about it, Harry was in panic mode, the only thing that makes sense to do in panic mode is to scream. Scream and scream and _scream_ until maybe something changes. Louis has seen it time and time again throughout his years as a surgeon, desperation comes rolling in and people will shout anything and everything in hopes that their situation can change. That their loved one can be saved by any means and at all costs.

Harry is no different. Maybe a small fraction of him is truly sorry for leaving all those years ago, maybe a piece of him does feel a bit of remorse about breaking Louis’ heart, but it loses its legitimacy when the only time Harry can say it is when he is simultaneously begging Louis to save his child’s life.

But Louis can’t think about any of that right now, not when he’s staring down at one of the most complex tumors he’s ever seen in his career.

When he saw the rendition of her tumor on the scans, it was daunting, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing it in all its horrifying glory. It’s intelligent, woven between the blood vessels and nerves as though it was always meant to be there. Its core is so intricately webbed between what should be and what should not, that the lines are nearly inseparable. A growth like this is often rightfully referred to as a butterfly tumor because it spreads its long unpredictable wings over both sides of the brain, digging into vital pieces of tissue in a way that almost appears beautiful, like the masterful artistry and majesty of a butterfly. From Louis’ vantage point, there is no way a tumor like this could be removed surgically without severe harm or complete brain death. No one could cut this out unscathed, for it’s lodged in the very place that makes Avery who she is.

“Dr. Tomlinson?”

Louis slowly lifts his gaze from the surgical field, breaking his zone of focus to notice Charlie standing off by the exit. He returns his gaze back to his scope. “What is it, Wesley?”

“Um Mr. Styles—the um patient’s father, said I could go so um…” Dr. Wesley tells him from the corner of the O.R. “May I scrub in now?”

Louis doesn’t lift his head from his scope at all, continuing to work on securing the potential opening into the brain for the thin catheter tube of the shunt. “Has his fiancé come back yet?”

“Uh well no, he—”

“Then no.” Louis interrupts tersely, voice firm and unyielding.

Dr. Wesley steps a bit further into the room, not quite accepting Louis’ reply. “But Mr. Styles said that I didn’t need to stay anymore and—”

“I said no, Wesley.” Louis replies again sternly. “He witnessed something traumatic just now and he shouldn’t be alone. So go back to the waiting room and give him an update. Tell him that his daughter is stable and the surgery will last at least another hour. Then sit down next to him, don’t leave his side and most importantly, don’t come back into my O.R. unless I page you here. Understood?”

“Sir, but with all due respect, I’m a doctor and I’m supposed to be learning, not being someone’s shoulder to cry on. It’s a waste of my skills.” Charlie boldly declares and Louis is certain that she must have lost her mind.

Louis sets his instruments down for a moment and looks away from the surgical field to lock his fiery, unamused gaze on his intern. “Dr. Wesley, I am your attending, how dare you disrespect my orders in my O.R.” He utters and his voice is like ice, the entire O.R. falls deathly silent, so quiet that if a pin were to drop, it’d sound as loud as an anvil. “You claim to be a doctor, well here is a fucking lesson for you.”

“Louis.” Niall whispers admonishingly from across the table, urging him to calm down. But Louis can’t calm down. He’s agitated and he’s unnerved and it only took a small prick to set him off completely. He is not in the mood to be sassed by an intern of all people. Not today.

“Being a surgeon—no, being a _doctor,_ is more than just skill and surgical technique. It’s more than cutting, or diagnosing—it’s so much more than any of that. You’re a care provider and it’s a tremendous privilege to be so intricately involved in the outcome of someone else’s life. So when I ask you to go and sit with a patient’s family member, I’m not just blowing smoke out of my ass, I’m teaching you a lesson. That man outside in the waiting room is a parent, a worried, scared parent. And you have no idea because you were still in fucking high school at the time, but he’s been through far more than you can ever imagine. And right now he is alone and terrified and all I asked you to do is be there for him while I try to save the only person he has left in the world. I don’t think that’s such a hard thing for you to do, do you? I’m not training you to be a selfish doctor, Dr. Wesley. I want you to be a doctor who cares about the wellbeing of others and always puts them before whatever you stand to gain.” Louis says evenly, yet firmly. He’s extremely irritated, but he still wants his student to hear him and above all, take his words to heart and apply them in the future. “So if you’re too good to provide _care_ and sit with someone in distress—someone in need and be a goddamn shoulder to cry on, then any skills you claim to have are an absolute waste and medicine is not for you.”

The O.R. somehow manages to fall quieter still, utterly silent aside from the beeps and whirling machines. Charlie looks shell-shocked, glancing at her boyfriend to defend her but Louis knows Niall wouldn’t dare. She was completely line out of line and it’s only because of her connection to Niall that she’d even feel comfortable enough directly disobeying his orders so blatantly.

“What the fuck are you still doing here!” Louis bursts in complete agitation as the intern still hasn’t moved a single inch. “Get the hell out of my O.R. and do as I said, Wesley! _Go_!”

“Uh right—ok. Y-Yes, sir.” Charlie stammers, nodding her head repeatedly.

“Fucking interns…” Louis huffs under his breath irritably once she’s gone.

“You didn’t have to be so hard on her.” Niall says quietly after a few silent moments have passed.

Louis gives Niall a strong look. “Niall, don’t make me say it, please. I’m really not in the mood…”

“Say what?”

“She’s an intern. I know how you feel about her and I totally respect that and I completely support your relationship, but not in my O.R.” Louis states resolutely. “Within the walls of this hospital, I’m her teacher, not her friend. She’s my intern and she has to learn regardless of her connection to you.”

That’s the problem with interns dating attendings, they grow some kind of complex that makes them feel a bit more superior to their peers. Through Niall, Charlie has made friends with quiet a few attendings and that’s all good and fine after hours. But at the end of the day, Charlie is still a first year intern, no matter who she goes home to at night.

Niall nods his head, sighing a bit in understanding. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The surgery continues on as expected, Louis and Niall work together to place the ventriculoperitoneal shunt and relieve some of the pressure caused by the unwelcome, impeding tumor. Placing a shunt properly is never a lengthy procedure, it’s quite simple actually. And under normal circumstances, that don’t involve strategically placed gliomas, Louis has gotten it done in under 90 minutes several times in the past. At least there have been no further complications this time around, Louis doesn’t know if he could mentally deal with that right now. Today has been complicated enough and he needs time to process the severity of Avery’s inoperable tumor. Everything inside him refuses to believe that it’s true, even though he has seen it with his own eyes

But then, right as they are on the final steps of the procedure, Avery starts to code out of seemingly nowhere.

“Asystole!”

“Dammit.” Louis snaps his head up at the sound of warning beeps blaring through the O.R. He looks to the monitor on his left and watches in horror as Avery’s pulse readings drop down to nothing with next to no amplitude spikes. She’s flatlining.

The horrible thing about a patient’s heart readings presenting as asystole is that it’s not a shockable heart rhythm like tachycardia or ventricular fibrillation. No, asystole is a breed of its own in many ways, and at many times it takes twice as much work to get the heart to even a shockable rhythm, let alone a normal one.

Niall immediately starts administrating cardiopulmonary resuscitation, palms thumping against her chest at steady compression intervals. Louis watches the clock while monitoring her blood pressure and oximetry readings.

“ETCO2 holding steady at 10 mm HG.” The scrub nurse reads out Avery’s end-tidal carbon dioxide levels, which are reasonable for asystole readings, but nowhere near normal. A normal output should be anywhere between 35 and 45 mm HG.

“Push one of Epi.” Louis orders after two minutes of consistent CPR, jumping right to the use of vasopressors to hopefully get some kind of spike from the eerie flat line blaring from the EKG. “Have the paddles ready at 200.”

The surgical team follow as instructed, pushing the drugs intravenously and preparing to administer the first round of defibrillations once a rhythm is hopefully achieved. Louis can’t stop staring at the monitor, praying for something to change while also trying to keep his mind clear and focused and calm. It’s not the time to panic, they can bring her back, they can and they will. Or Louis desperately hopes as much, but despite the first push of medication the readings remain asystolic.

“She’s still flatlining.” Niall notes as he looks over his shoulder, still applying repeated pressure to her chest.

“Push more Epi.” Louis orders, her ETCO2 rises up to 14 mm HG, but Louis is pretty sure that’s only due to the new wave of determined compressions performed by Niall.

_don’t panic, i have to stay calm…_

“We have VT!” The nurse announces, noting the small shockable rhythms finally presenting.

“Shock her now!” Louis barks straightaway, holding his own breath.

Niall immediately stops compressions, holding his hands up and away from the table before the lead scrub nurse administers the first defibrillation. “Clear!”

Louis’ eyes are trained to the monitor, waiting to see the shallow tachycardiac peaks stabilize, but it doesn’t happen—nothing happens and Louis is starting to feel that awfully familiar panic rising up mercilessly in his throat.

_stay calm, stay calm, stay calm_

He takes in one long breath to compose himself, eyes fluttering closed for a single moment, trying to hold whatever shreds of equanimity he has left together. And when Louis opens his eyes again, he regains a semblance of focus, but for who knows how long. “Let’s go again.”

The surgical team goes through the motions of another round of life support, giving Avery all they’ve got. A nurse switches out with Niall to continue her compressions, giving him a break as he’d already been going tirelessly for the last five minutes. The voltage is raised to 300 and the shock is delivered properly to her system, but still nothing changes, nothing but the turning of the clock, ticking and ticking and _ticking_. The longer she stays down, the longer it takes to restart her heart, the worse off she’ll be in recovery, if she can recover at all.

“Again!” Louis says, frustration clearly evident in his voice. He’s not giving up on her, that’s one thing he will never, ever do. “Push Adenosine this time.”

“Doctor?” 

“Just do it!” Louis demands, absolutely refusing to give up and refusing to let this be the end of anything for the little girl on the table. A little girl who deserves far more out of life than this. He takes over compressions for the scrub nurse, locking his palms over each other and pumping Avery’s chest like his whole life depends on it—because it does, it  _completely_ does. “Charge to 360.”

“How long has she been down?” Niall asks, looking at the monitor anxiously. Even with a mask over the majority of his face, there’s so much worry clearly morphing the entirety of his features. And if Niall looks like that, Louis can only imagine what his own expression must look like.

“Eleven minutes, Doctor.”

_it’s not too late, she can still pull out of this…_

“Ok, let’s push more Adenosine and charge again.” Louis says as continues to pump her heart manually. It’s only recommended to use Adenosine twice when resuscitating pediatric patients and Louis hopes with everything inside him that this last push will be enough to finally stabilize her.

“Dr. Tomlinson, but—”

“I said charge the damn paddles again.” Louis demands, teeth gritted together as whatever calm he had inside him dissipates to the wind. There’s so many risks when it comes to resuscitating a patient, especially a pediatric patient, during surgery no less. Aside from getting her heart to start up again properly, there’s also the concern for her oxygen and blood levels dropping too low, potentially leading to hypoxia or hypovolemia. Even though oxygen is being continuously pumped into her body, along with a fresh blood supply, there’s no guarantee that enough of it is properly reaching her brain and vital organs.

“Charge it.” Niall agrees, nodding his head.

The team follows through with Louis’ orders, delivering another high-voltage shock to Avery’s chest, leaving every eye glued to the screens.

“Come on Avery, come on, love…” Louis whispers longingly, staring at the monitor with baited breath. “Please Aves…”

“Dr. Tomlinson, how would you like to proceed?”

“Give her a second…” Louis mumbles hopefully, heart pounding in his ears nearly louder than the blaring of the machines all around him. He stares at the screen as though he can spike the shallow dips and restore systolic and diastolic pressure with only his gaze, as though by the sheer force of his anticipative stare he can will the rhythm of her heart back to normal.

 “ _Avery…_ ”

 

||✚||

 

“Charlie!” Harry calls, leaping from the waiting room chair when he spots her. He is so on edge, hardly able to keep himself still. He and Dr. Wesley are now on a first name basis, considering they spent the better part of the evening together. Harry thinks she’s sweet and he’s glad to have someone around to distract him from what he knows is happening somewhere in this hospital. Charlie had gone to get an update for him, offering before Harry even had to ask. “How is it going? Is he still operating on her?”

“He’s out of surgery now.” Charlie answers, not offering much information while avoiding direct eye contact, which isn’t normal for her since just ten minutes ago they were talking frankly and openly which each other.

“How did it go? Is she—is Avery ok?” Harry asks with caution, speaking at a limited volume. He wants to know the answer, but at the same time he isn’t completely sure that he is ready for the answer.

Charlie bites her lip nervously, hands stuffed in her lab coat. “Harry, I think we should…uh…wait for Dr. Tomlinson…” She nods her head and seems to think of anything else she can offer. “But…let me take you to a private room where we can wait for him.”

That’s not a good sign. Harry knows from experience that her calculated answer is definitely not a good sign, but he also knows that he can’t allow himself to think negatively.

_gemma died just like this…_

No. He can’t allow his mind to go there. Not yet. Not when he doesn’t know anything yet. This isn’t the same situation—this is different. It’s different. Harry knows that it _has_ to be different.

_what if it’s not different?_

Avery is a fighter, a survivor. She will come out of this, she will pull through this. She did it before and she can do it again. She will, she will, she will.

_she might not…_

Harry follows behind Charlie blindly, mind hardly paying any attention to the steps he is taking through the many winding hallways and before he knows it, he’s standing in an empty hospital room.

“I’m sorry, the conference rooms are all in use at the moment, but please make yourself comfortable in here.” Charlie gestures to the lone chair along the white wall. “Is there anything I can get for you while you wait? Water? Coffee? I know you’re probably sick of the coffee here by now.”

“Erm…no…” Harry shakes his head slowly in a daze. She is right though, he is sick of it—5 cups and 3 hours later. “Um…but thank you, Charlie.” He offers a marginal smile, hoping it doesn’t look like a grimace.

“Of course.” She smiles warmly at him, but there is also a hint of pity in her eyes as she gives him a light pat on the shoulder. “I’m going to go find Dr. Tomlinson for you. I’ll be right back, ok?”

Harry nods weakly as he settles into the surprisingly comfortable chair. He doesn’t fully rest in it, instead choosing to perch on the edge. The energy running rampant through his body causes him to fidget and squirm, boots clicking anxiously on the cold linoleum floor. Harry isn’t sure how much time is actually passing, but it feels like a lifetime. As though he is rapidly aging by the very second. He tries to distract himself, desperately trying to think of something else— _anything_ else. But each and every time his mind betrays him and he once again conjures up the disturbing and discouraging image of his daughter lying on a stripped down bed, body cold and without breath.

Harry starts counting the number of tiles on the linoleum floor, getting to number 56 when the door handle jiggles.

“ _Louis!”_ Harry jumps up from his seated position as soon as he sees him appear in the doorway, accompanied by Charlie. He must have rushed right over because, he is still draped in an untied surgical gown with his scrub cap fastened to his head.

Without another word, Harry practically flies over to Louis. And even though he knows it’s not completely appropriate, he wraps his arms around Louis in a desperate embrace. He just wants to be held, he needs to be held. Jesse still hasn’t shown up, even though Harry has filled his entire voicemail box and sent text after text. He just feels so alone in all this.

Despite everything remaining so unresolved between them, Louis holds Harry tightly, arms wound around his entire back. And it doesn’t take more than mere seconds for Harry to start trembling in his strong arms, sagging his weight against Louis weakly.

“Can you give us the room?” Louis asks the intern gently over Harry’s shoulder, having still not let go of him.

Charlie nods, swiftly exiting the room and shutting the door behind her, leaving Louis and Harry all alone wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“Harry, I need to talk to you.” Louis whispers seriously against Harry’s neck, slowly pulling back from their tight embrace.

Harry is reluctant to pull back, not wanting to face any sort of reality yet. He doesn’t want to meet Louis’ eyes because he doesn’t know what might be portrayed in them. Will they scream sorrow? Will they weep apology? Will they cry out in pain? Will they depict hopelessness or hope? Harry doesn’t think he can handle knowing. “H-how is she? Is s-she ok?” 

“Harry, how about you sit down first?” Louis tries, speaking gently.

“No, just tell me, Louis.” Harry pulls back and finally gazes daringly into Louis’ eyes, utilizing all the bravery he has left in him. “Tell me.”

Louis’ tone is calm, always even and steady, but it’s what lies beneath Louis’ eyes that startles Harry. His suspicions confirming reality. That unsettling eeriness, that underlying sadness laced with unresolved distress. It’s there. It’s all there.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIKIeSe3SCg&t=0s&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVt-WzJ4BcMge870M5fvoXpH&index=6)

Harry gradually begins to shake his head, pulling back even more from Louis’ arms as he tugs his lower lip through his teeth.

“The seizure Avery suffered from was due to a build up of cerebral spinal fluid caused by a block from her growing tumor.” Louis says slowly and Harry can tell he doesn’t want to say any more, he doesn’t want to continue and every word out of his mouth is being shoved out by sheer force. “In surgery I placed a shunt to drain the excess fluid from her brain down to her stomach, but the pressure had gotten so high from the block that her heart stopped and her brain wasn’t getting enough oxygen…and it took several minutes before we could restart it and bring her back…”

Harry is hanging off of Louis’ every word, searching the calming blue of his eyes.

“She’s stable for now, but…” Louis continues despondently, features downcast and heavy. “She’s unconscious and unresponsive.” 

Harry can’t move let alone think of any sort of tangible response. His brain might as well equate to a blank slate. He feels trapped within the confines of his own body. It’s a familiar place, but also a scary place.

“The brain sometimes takes longer to readjust after complications like this and I’m hoping that if we give her time, the shunt will relieve the rest of the pressure from the CSF build up and she’ll wake up but...” Louis’ eyes meet Harry’s dead on, holding his broken gaze, and Harry is hanging off his very breath. “There is still a high chance she won’t. It’s too soon to know if there will be deficits, but…um…even if she does wake up, the tumor in her brain is um…well it’s in a place that can’t realistically be removed surgically...”

“No…” Harry abruptly sucks in a staggering breath with all the severity and painful shock of being brutally stabbed, eyes widening in pure horror and incredulity.

“Harry—”

“She’s s-she’s gonna die. She’s gonna die…like Gem—like G-Gemma…” Harry inhales frantically like the wind is being repeatedly knocked out of him by force, blow after blow, mouth dangling open in shock. His legs suddenly hold all the stability of limp noodles and his whole body is begging to melt into a useless puddle on the hard floor. He can’t support his own weight and his knees are ready to buckle beneath him.

_this can’t be real_

“Harry, listen to me.” Louis grasps onto him, gripping his shoulders tightly as he tries to get through to his rapidly fogging mind. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to bring her back to you.” Louis pledges, arms practically the only force holding Harry’s withering frame upright. “I promise you. I’ll figure out a way to treat her. We’re going to fight this. I promise.”

_it’s not real, it can’t be_

The panic rises and rises and _rises_ , consuming Harry’s entire essence in one swift sweep, attacking his psyche, manifesting itself in brutal domination over his body. “No... I n-need her. I need h-her! I need her! No!” He repeats incessantly, as those are the only words replaying through his mind, like a loop with no determinable end. Hot tears sting at his eyes, burning their way down his flushed cheeks. His chest heaves wildly, far surpassing anything in a normal scope, while his throat feels like it’s so tightly constricted that he can’t possibly breathe, just sucking in gulps of strained air as his head whips wildly to and fro. “I need h-her… I n-need…I—”

“Ok, ok…just breathe, just breathe. Look at me Harry, you have to breathe.” Louis presses down on Harry’s wrists, trying to ground him in some way, but Harry hardly even feels it. “Breathe for me, H. Please.”

“Why?!” Harry screams angrily, a fresh wave of tears streaming from his bloodshot eyes. “Why?! Why c-can’t it be me? Why—why can’t it be m-me instead…she’s just a c-child…a _baby…_ she’s m-my baby! Why can’t it be me?!” He starts thrashing around in Louis’ hold, crying and screaming hysterically. “No! No!”

“Harry, look at me, look at me, please. I need you to breathe, ok? Breathe Harry, _breathe_.” Louis tries to hold him steady, but Harry is bigger than him, easily squirming free of his hold. “Breathe in and out, ok?”

_breathe in..._

Harry’s red eyes are darting wildly about the hospital room, not having the ability to focus on anything as his chest continues to rise and fall without accord. His entire body is shaking pugnaciously in sheer dread, and he is somehow powerless to stop it. He feels his own voice screaming out in pain, shrieking and wailing in agony, but like an out of body experience, Harry can only let it happen. All control lost. Surrendered.

_...breathe out_

Louis moves his hands to cradle the sides of Harry’s head, trying so desperately hard to calm him down. And, god he looks so worried, so, _so_ worried, like in this moment Louis would do absolutely anything to soothe Harry. Anything at all. Even for only a second of relief, he would give the very air right out of his own lungs. Harry knows Louis would do it, he can feel it pouring out of his steady gaze.

“Look at me please, H. Please.” Louis begs, head tilted with worry. “I know it hurts, I know—but please Harry, you have to breathe.”

Harry can feel his chest constricting painfully; practically choking him. It feels tighter and tighter, panic grappling to his very core, astringing all the willpower he has left. His system is drifting further and further from his control.

“Focus on me.” Louis holds the sides of Harry’s head tightly forcing him to meet his eyes, fingers twisted in his short curls. He moves to lift one of Harry’s trembling hands to rest flat against his chest, holding his hand over Harry’s over his heart.

Harry tries so impossibly hard to focus his attention on Louis’ eyes, the ever bright blue and calming strength of Louis’ eyes, but his lungs are rapidly hyperventilating, hardly getting anywhere near enough oxygen to sustain him. He feels so faint, breathing hurts, _everything_ hurts. His body grows weaker with shock, the prolonged devitalized state of his entire system overpowering him tenfold. His desiccated chest cavity lurches erratically, while his heart can only continue to ache in distress.

_breathe in..._

“With me, ok? Breathe with me. Feel my chest and just try to match it. Try as hard as you can, ok?” Louis presses his forehead against Harry’s as he inhales an exaggerated breath along with him, still holding Harry’s hand flat against his body. “Yeah, just like that. That’s good, love that’s good. Deep breaths, keep breathing…”

Harry closes his eyes, pushing out more tears as his head rests against Louis’. He concentrates on the feel of Louis’ hand gently holding his temple, the sound of his soothing voice telling him to breathe, the repeated thump of his heart beneath Harry’s palm. He focuses on Louis like a ship looking to a lighthouse to guide it home. Slowly, with pain etched in each and every attempt, Harry begins to take in tortured gasps of breath. His whole body is still trembling harshly and with every breath he tries to take into his lungs, his body protests. Harry slumps down a bit more, weakly surrendering into Louis’ safeguarding embrace.

_...breathe out_

Louis pulls Harry gently onto the empty hospital bed, scooting their entwined bodies backwards until he is positioned against the headboard. “It’s ok, you’re ok, H. Keep breathing, just keep breathing for me.” Louis comforts softly, holding Harry’s head, stroking his hair soothingly as he rocks him gently back and forth. “You’re ok, love.”

_breathe in..._

Harry starts to reel in his sputtering breaths as he so desperately tries to sync them with Louis’. With his head tucked snuggly against Louis’ chest, eyes squeezed shut, hands fisted in the material of his scrubs, Harry listens to the thumping and pounding of his heartbeat, feeling his lungs expand and depress rhythmically.

_…breathe out_

That’s all he can do really. All Harry can do in this shattered fragment of tormented time is keep breathing, just keep breathing. With new waves of tears pouring from his eyes mercilessly and unforgiving notions of reality threatening his sanity, all he can do is keep breathing. In and out, one single stolen breath at a time.

 _keep breathing, keep breathing, keep breathing_.

Until everything else fades away…


	9. nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> youtube [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvHsoeXMkoExM-HzsVpaaTm) for nine + ten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello loves! I'm posting two chapters hip hop hooray :) i feel like I'm setting myself up for failure because one of these weeks i'm gonna lose my flow and post suuuper late (but hopefully not) anyways, thanks so much for the lovely comments and messages, i apologize to all of you who are stressed out, but just hang in there, friends.
> 
> i love you all! :'))
> 
> lex .x

_haphazardly stitched back together._

||☤||

 

After several long hours, Harry’s tears have ceased and the little breath he has left comes a little easier, exhaled quietly against Louis’ chest. Exhaustion has completely overtaken Harry’s weathered body and he has finally tired himself out enough to be soundly pulled to sleep. He’s curled so tightly to Louis’ body, as though he can’t begin to function without him, fingers holding on for dear life even in his sleep. And all through the night Louis held him unwaveringly, keeping him calm, keeping him breathing.

Through a different lens, Louis has pictured this before in his mind so many countless times. Being helplessly tangled up with Harry again, content in just holding each other. And under any other circumstance, Louis would be overjoyed to have Harry back in his arms again, but this is not how he envisioned it would be.

Last night was emotional—painfully emotional. From the moment Louis forced words out of his mouth that he knew Harry couldn’t handle, having to tell him an unimaginable truth that Louis had hardly even processed himself. And then to watch Harry completely lose himself, drowned in a sea of inescapable panic, screaming and crying inconsolably—it hurt so _much_ , more than Louis ever thought possible. He’s been working so hard to accept the distance that must remain between them, reminding himself as many times as it takes that he’s over Harry, that perhaps they were always meant to remain beautifully unfinished.

Yet, regardless of what Louis told his mind, his heart felt far differently and he was near tears and on the verge of a mighty breakdown the entire time Harry trembled in his arms, just willing himself to be strong for Harry’s sake. Pleading against his own sanity to somehow keep it together, while repeating the same two words in his head.

_don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry_

Even as the worst began to pass away and he rocked Harry’s exhausted body to sleep in his arms, Louis had to keep reminding himself not to break loose, not to crack. Harry needed strength, he needed steadfast comfort. So that’s what Louis was for him. He didn’t break down and he didn’t succumb to the overwhelming emotion plaguing his heart, threatening to rip him apart from the inside.

And now, as the storm has momentarily ceased, Louis can’t sleep. He can’t get his mind to shut up and rest, still uncomfortably on edge. He runs his gentle fingers through Harry’s hair as he continues to go through every single thing in that surgery, replaying it repeatedly on a loop in his head. He mentally goes over the haunting scans, overlaying them with what he vividly remembers about the tumor, trying to figure out how he can somehow find a way to overcome this.

The tumor is completely inoperable, that much is undeniable. Seeing the scans is one thing, giving Louis leeway to be optimistic, but then seeing it right before his eyes in truth and spirit, witnessing the greedy tendrils of cancer claim her body in such a malicious way, he can’t deny it. There is no realistic way he can excise the tumor from her brain without either killing her or causing such drastic deficits, she would no longer possess what makes her human. What makes her _Avery_.

But even still, Louis’ brain whirls, drawing up every possibility, every angle, every method he can possibly think of. Going through each hypothetical procedure, every calculated method, and every precise cut in his mind, desperately trying to figure out something—absolutely anything and everything that could save her.

Louis gazes down at Harry fast asleep in his arms, sweet and loving Harry. Things are far from perfect between them to say the least, but Louis would never wish this on him. As much as Louis wants to claim that he’s over Harry, he can’t deny that he still cares deeply for the man in his arms in a way that completely unnerves him at times. And despite the animosity and blind confusion towards their situation, seeing Harry in pain is worse than all of that combined. Seeing him so distraught, teetering near his breaking point was almost too much for Louis to reasonably bear and god only knows how Louis was able to keep himself together as he powerlessly bore witness to it.

Harry has been through so much in his life already, surviving punch after punch that has cruelly been thrown at him despite the uneven odds stacked up against him. Louis remembers how much Gemma meant to Harry, what losing her did to him all those years ago. And Louis also knows exactly how much Avery means to Harry now, it’s all over his face when he even so much as speaks her name. His whole life is lovingly devoted to her, vowing to protect and cherish his daughter at whatever cost. How can he possibly survive this? How could Harry ever begin to survive life without Avery?

_there has to be something i can do…_

Jesse suddenly walks into the still room, eyes immediately falling to Harry’s curled up body suctioned to Louis’ side. Louis meets Jesse’s eyes as they stare each other down in silence, tension so thick, it could make the paint on the hospital walls peel off entirely. Jesse’s jaw clenches, body language seething, as he takes in Louis and Harry’s combined limbs, twisted and tangled together in discernible desperation.

Louis couldn’t give less of a fuck about Jesse’s feelings. There’s no excuse under the sun good enough to explain why he couldn’t have been here or at least called Harry. It should be him right now in Louis’ place, holding Harry, rubbing his back, whispering in his ear, soothing him and telling him everything is going to be ok. But it’s not. Instead his fiancé was alone, going through absolute hell all night long with no one but his daughter’s doctor to comfort him. And this guy has the nerve to come waltzing in with an attitude, looking perfectly well rested. No, fuck him.

“He’s asleep.” Louis finally whispers, glaring at Jesse vengefully with a protective hand holding Harry against his chest. He looks down at Harry for a moment, watching the small breaths leave his evanescently tranquil face as he cards his fingers through the short hairs at the base of his neck softly. “He’s had a really hard night. If you were here, you’d know that…”

Jesse scoffs dismissively, fists balled up at his sides in growing irritation. “I had urgent matters to attend to.” 

“Oh, I’m _sure_ you did. I’m sure there are a million things more important than being with your fiancé as his daughter goes through potentially fatal surgery. Of fucking course.” Louis nods flatly, eyes narrowed. He knows he is being brash, he knows he has repeatedly exemplified unprofessional behavior in the past 24 hours, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. “Just let him rest, he’s gone through hell—”

“He’ll want to see me.” Jesse asserts boldly, taking a few steps closer and reaching out to Harry.

“Don’t. Touch. Him.” Louis grits through his teeth venomously, trying not to tousle Harry awake, curled up in a little ball against Louis. He feels incredibly protective over Harry right now. It took hours upon hours for him to finally calm down and fall asleep, his body shook and trembled all through the night. And now Harry looks so at peace, and Louis knows it’s temporary, it’s fleeting. But right now, Louis would fight to prolong the moment, prolong the peace. Because the moment Harry opens his eyes, the weight and the burden of all he has to face will crush him once again.

“He’s _my_ fiancé, he will want to see me. I don’t need your fucking permission.” Jesse bites back.

Louis glares malevolently at Jesse, barely resisting the urge to jump up and strangle him as he walks over to the bed. Jesse reaches over to prod Harry’s resting form away from Louis, turning him over in his sleep to face him. Jesse kneels down in front of him and brushes the fallen hair from covering his face.

“Jesse?” Harry blinks groggily in a disoriented daze.

“Hi babe, I’m here.” Jesse whispers, caressing the side of Harry’s face. 

“Jes…” For a moment Harry’s soft sleepy face looks relieved and thankfully reassured, a slight upturn of lips and the ghost of a dimple gracing his cheeks. But then, like summoning a dark and mighty storm, his features turn cloudy, shadows and flashes of remembrance raining down on him like strikes of lightning. Harry bolts up suddenly, sucking in a sharp intake of breath, deep indent carved into his brow. “Where were you?”

“Harry, I’m right here.” Jesse consoles gently, arms reaching to wrap around his waist as he apparently expects Harry to just melt into his embrace. But Harry is not having any of it.

“No, no, Jesse!” Harry twists out of his fiancé’s arms, recoiling from his touch as he weakly stands to his feet. “Where were you?! I called you and called you and _called_ you! I needed you! Avery—” He gasps, fingers dragging harshly against his scalp as he looks up at the ceiling, fighting back another wave of tears. Louis can visibly see him rapidly reliving the events of last night in an instant, scene after scene, moment after moment, the pain and hopelessness washing over his spirit all over again. “She was s-seizing and s-she…she—” Harry shakes his head, hands over his face as he starts to break down again. 

“I’m sorry.” Jesse rushes out apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I wanted to be here—”

“You wanted to be here! What the fuck does that mean, Jesse?!” Harry shouts, water pooling heavily at his eyes. “I needed you here! I actually needed you and you left me completely alone! I went through the worst night of my life and you weren’t here for me!”

Louis feels like he’s intruding, like his presence is not needed during this argument, but he can’t seem to move. Held captive on the hospital bed, averting his eyes. It’s none of his business, really it isn’t. But at the same time, it feels like everything involving Harry is his business. Louis has such an overpowering urge to protect him. He doesn’t deserve this shit, not from anyone and especially not from the man who is supposed to love him.

“I’m here now.”

“No! You couldn’t be bothered to at least call me back? Send a text? I was worried sick about you. I thought that something happened to you and—and it was just a lot with Avery and you gone and…I…” Harry’s breathing is picking up again, verging on the familiar levels of panic he reached only hours ago. “I s-shouldn’t have to worry about you too!”

“Oh babe, I’m sorry.” Jesse repeats uselessly, trying to wrap his arms around Harry again. “I’m sorry.”

Harry steps away from his embrace harshly, brushing Jesse off angrily, jaw tense. “No, stop. I don’t want to hear it anymore—I don’t have time for this. I have to go see my daughter.” He leans his body towards Louis, still perched on the hospital bed. “Louis, can I see her now?”

Louis blinks back to life, sliding off the bed and collecting his disregarded scrub cap and surgical gown from last night. “Um…yeah. Yes—I can take you to her. Of course. Erm…follow me.”

Louis starts to walk out of the room as Harry anxiously follows behind him, and the entire time Jesse eyes him with piercing daggers. Louis wants so badly to flip him off and tell him to go fuck himself, but that would once again be exceedingly unprofessional and Louis has done more than enough unprofessional things recently. For now, it’ll have to wait as he focuses what’s left of his depleted energy into being there for Harry as best he can.

  

||✚||

 

“I’ll just give you some space.” Louis says gently, looking up at Harry as they stand outside of Avery’s room in the ICU. “If you need anything, I’ll be on the floor, just ask the nurses to page me.”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ERJpT76rGw&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvHsoeXMkoExM-HzsVpaaTm&t=0s&index=2)

Harry stands frozen near the doorway, eyes locked ahead of him. He can’t stop staring. If he thought she looked frail and fragile before, now she appears to be made of the feeblest glass. She looks so impossibly small in the huge hospital bed. Tubes and wires coming out of everywhere, machines whirling and beeping in low portentous tones around the room. All just trying to keep her alive.

It’s so strange because her still face is so peaceful, as though she’s only sleeping. And Harry has the urge to try and wake her up as he has on so many mornings. Press little kisses to her cheeks and rub her back until she sleepily stirs awake and smiles up at him. But he knows that won’t happen, Harry knows that nothing he can do will wake her this time and his heart just shatters.

“Oh, _Avie…”_ Harry gasps, already choked up. Just the simple sight of her in this tragic state, sparks fresh tears to his eyes as he slowly approaches the bed. “My sweet baby girl...”

Harry runs his palm gently over her motionless face, cupping her cheek as he sits down in the chair near her bed. He can’t take his eyes off of her, he never wants to take his eyes off of her. He wants to be here with her forever, to have her in his life forever.

_but she is fading away…_

Her beautiful eyes are closed, hiding away the warm hazel of her usually bright irises. And it’s absolutely terrifying to see her body held so still, hardly moving at all except for the steady rise and fall over her tiny chest. It hurts to see her like this, so helpless and lacking in life. Avery is so lively and energetic, the charisma she holds could shed light on any dark place and to see her held prisoner by her own body, cuts Harry in the deepest corners of his broken heart.

“She knew I needed you…” Harry whispers softly, stroking Avery’s cheek tenderly as he gazes down at her. “Your mum—Gemma…she knew how much I’d need you when she was gone…” He pauses as he thinks of his dear sister for a moment, a ghastly ache ruminating behind his ribs. “Oh, she would have been such an amazing mother. She…she would have done everything right and given you everything you could have ever wanted...”

Harry swipes at his eyes, shaking his head faintly, trying to get his silent tears under control, but continually failing as they only flow harder. “I’m sorry that you got stuck with me. I know I wasn’t the best father to you in the beginning…and I—”

He pauses his words again, closing his eyes as he thinks back to the very beginning. To the very start of his unexpected relationship with his daughter. Harry’s heart quickly becomes heavier still, weighing him down from deep within. He tugs his lip through his teeth as the emotion cracks through him.

“God, I’m so s-sorry, Avery...” Harry completely breaks down, quiet tears morphing into heavy sobs. “I’m sorry for e-every time I failed you as a parent—for everything I did wrong…I’ve been selfish…so s-selfish and stupid.” He cries, holding his head in his hands. “I know that…I k-know.”  

“I…I took things away from you j-just because I couldn’t deal with them…b-because I wasn’t strong enough. I told myself t-that…that I was protecting y-you, but really I’ve only been protecting myself. And that wasn’t f-fair to you...it wasn’t, it w-wasn’t. You deserved so much m-more. You d-deserve to know about your mother and…a-and you deserve to be surrounded by people who l-love you.”

The unescapable presence of guilt fills his chest heavier than bricks of cement; all he can feel is the tremendous weight of his misguided mistakes piled up against him. He hasn’t been the father his daughter needed because he wouldn’t allow himself to be vulnerable, he couldn’t handle the pain of exposing his scars, instead pretending they never existed.

“I’m sorry f-for—” Harry lets his next words get caught in the back of his throat, feeling bile rising up just thinking about how wrong he was. “I’m s-sorry for ever saying…for—for saying that…that y-you…weren’t m-mine…” He gets choked up with his sobs, hardly able to speak anymore. “That I…I d-didn’t want y-you…”

“But b-baby girl…you’re my everything, you’re _my_ baby.” Harry cries uncontrollably, face splitting with suppressed emotion, shattered in every possible way. He thinks back on every single time he ever denied those words. Every time he was immature and selfish, boldly claiming he wasn’t really a father, that he didn’t have a child. He can’t believe he was ever so stupid. It doesn’t matter if he isn’t Avery’s biological father, he is her father. She is his child in every way. “You are…you’re mine…you’re m-mine…I love you…you’ve always been my b-baby.”

“Aviebug, I’m trying…I’m really t-trying now and I’ll try harder…I’ll try so much harder…I’ll do anything for you. I love you so much…I l-love you, Avery. Please don’t leave me. Come b-back to me, sweetheart.  _Please_ …” Harry begs hysterically through his wretched sobs. “You’re a-all I have…stay with me, baby. Please. I don’t k-know what I would do without y-you—you have to c-come back to m-me, Avie. I n-need you, I need you so m-much…”

He truly doesn’t know what he would do without her, he doesn’t want to know who he would be without her. And he never wants the chance to find out. She is everything and more to him.

“I promise it’ll be better. I promise I’ll be better. I promise. I p-promise.” Harry repeats earnestly, squeezing her limp hand in his as he closes his eyes. “Just—please…I’m n-not ready to let you g-go…”

 “You’re the best thing to happen to me, Munchie. Don’t leave…” Harry rests his head against the side of the hospital bed, still holding onto her warm hand for dear life as the tears ceaselessly stream from his eyes. “Please don’t leave me too… _please_ …”

 

||☤||

 

“Tomlinson!”

Louis jumps, instantly startled by The Chief’s booming voice, roaring down the hall. He turns around slowly, sensing that he should steel himself for the worst. “Yes, Chief?”

“A word please.” Chief Aoki demands through his clenched jaw, the ‘please’ apparently just thrown in as a courtesy, not at all bothering to phrase his proposal as a question. “My office. _Now_.”

“Um…yes. Yes, sir.” Louis nods submissively, following Steve to his office.

As soon as the door closes, sealing them into the silent office, Steve goes off. “What the hell is wrong with you!? Attacking a patient’s family member? Screaming and shouting profanities in the waiting area? In _my_ hospital!? I should have your ass suspended like yesterday!”

“Steve—Chief Aoki,” Louis corrects, bowing his head in remorse. “I admit that how I acted was utterly unprofessional, but—”

“But nothing! You were completely out of line! I can’t believe we are even having this conversation, it’s not like you, Louis. I’ve never known you to act out in such an unprofessional and undignified manner.” Steve paces the floor of his office disgruntledly. “You’re the goddamn Head of Neurosurgery for god’s sake!”

Louis nods repentantly, head hung. He can’t argue that his actions were out of line, but he is not apologetic. Jesse and his bitch ass lies deserved every bit of it and more. That motherfucker can burn and Louis would personally fuel the fire. As for how he handled the severe urgency of his oscillating feelings, Louis doesn’t know exactly what came over him. Well he does, obviously. The importance of Harry and Avery’s wellbeing.

“Ever since you took on that pediatric glioma case, you’ve been an absolute mess. I mean frankly you are acting as though you are related to the patient. What is going on with you?”

“I just—I care about her, sir.” Louis answers honestly, expression earnest. “I care about all my patients.”

“I know you care, Louis. You have a big heart. It’s what makes you such an astounding physician.” Steve admits seriously, meeting Louis’ eyes. “But that same passionate approach can get you into trouble. Yelling in a common area where people are trying to heal and grieve is not acceptable. Screaming at a patient’s family is not tolerable behavior. It’s grounds for probation. Your emotions are out of control. And your colleagues have also voiced their concerns.” He reveals solemnly, still pacing about the office. “You are just too attached to this patient, Tomlinson. I have no choice but to take you off the case.”

“No Steve, please!” Louis protests instantly, taking a step forward. “You don’t understand—I _need_ to be on this case and I—”

“Louis, as Chief of Surgery, I cannot stand for this.” Steve declares firmly. “It’s too many red flags to ignore.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Louis sighs in apology, running his fingers through his fringe. “It was extremely uncalled for and it won’t happen again—I swear it. Just please don’t take me off, I’m going to figure out a way to treat her. I really need to be on this case, Steve.”

“Jones can replace you.” Steve adds in finality, not willing to budge.

“ _Jones?!_ ” Louis bursts out in utter offense and blatant disapproval, unable to bite his tongue. “With all due respect sir, this is _my_ department and frankly Dr. Jones is an old dinosaur who needs to fucking retire!” 

“ _Louis_!” Steve hisses, eyes widening.

Louis probably shouldn’t have been that frank in retrospect, especially considering the dicey situation he is already in but, goddammit it’s the truth. Dr. Jones utilizes surgical methods that are hardly even in practice anymore, and he refuses to catch up to the times and he also refuses to retire his scalpel. It goes without saying that Louis is not the man’s biggest fan. Especially since out of all the neurosurgeons and fellows under Louis’ department, Dr. Jones is responsible for the highest number of fatalities per year. But the sheer impact of seniority he has over the hospital has somehow kept him on rotation, much to Louis’ exasperation.

“I’m sorry, but the complexity of my patient’s condition is far beyond Dr. Jones’ scope of practice and preferred skill level. If Dr. Jones wants to continue to practice medicine like it’s fucking 1985 that’s fine, but with routine procedures only.” Louis argues, unable to just let this stand. “This case is highly risky and incredibly intricate and requires innovation and a level of modernization that Dr. Jones refuses to possess. This little girl deserves the very best and I’m the best. You know I’m the best, Steve.”

Steve narrows his eyes at Louis in consideration and Louis can tell how conflicted he is. “Well, it’s my understanding that the tumor your patient suffers from is inoperable.”

Louis nods his head slowly in concession. “Yes, but—”

“If that is indeed the case, then there is nothing even you can do, Louis. You have to learn to accept what you can’t control.”

Louis stares despondently at the ground, not offering any answer. There is no way he can abandon this case—he refuses. He doesn’t have a plan right now, but with time he’ll figure something out. He never gives up on any of his patients and he sure as hell is not going to start with Avery.

“I think you just need to take a step back, remove yourself a bit.” Steve advises, placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder. He sighs a bit before continuing. “I know you won’t be able to keep your nose out of it with how headstrong you are, so I won’t restrict you from the case. But I can’t allow you to be the lead attending on this case anymore. You can stay on, but only as an assist to Jones.”

Louis wants to argue further, but he knows that will only end up shooting himself in the foot. He is already on the thinnest of ice as it is. At least he isn’t being completely banned or even suspended from surgery all together, it could be worse. Steve’s judgment is fair no matter how much it might upset him. “Thank you, Steve.” 

“We go way back and I’ve always considered you a close friend, but if I see you break protocol in any way again, you are off, got it? I don’t care what title you have or how good you are or even how much I like you, I will completely suspend you for your own good. Understood?” The Chief eyes him seriously.

Louis nods once, expression blank but reasonably pleasant. “Yes. Understood, sir.” 

 

||✚||

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOEQBO4-s94&index=2&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvHsoeXMkoExM-HzsVpaaTm)

Harry stands perfectly still, positioned at the very back of the elevator, riding it up and down, not even with purpose. No rhyme nor reason.

Nothing feels real. That numb feeling, that horribly dark, ominous feeling that he thought he’d left behind years ago, is slowly creeping back over him, coating his vitally devastated heart.

He did originally get on the lift with a purpose. He did have a rhyme, a potential reason. Harry had the intention of going down to the main level and out to his car. He was going to go home and once again collect a few of Avery’s favorite things to make her hospital room feel more at home for when she hopefully wakes up.

But now that Harry is in the metal confinement, locked within its walls, he can’t stop thinking about the harsh reality that she might never wake up and he just can't bring himself to move, paralyzed by just the thought.

People flutter in and out of the elevator, going about their day, carting lab work, pushing wheelchairs, chatting, joking, living. But Harry stays frozen; becoming more and more stationary, losing more purpose with each ding of the bell. No one knows what he is going through, no one knows the dithering shift of willpower afflicting his body, the devout heaviness burdening what’s left of his heart.

Harry doesn’t quite know how long he rides the elevator from level to level, but after awhile it empties out and soon he is standing in the lift completely alone. The sudden solitary atmosphere gives Harry the space to let his deepening cracks show, the encumbrance of everything he so greatly fears hurtling down on him. Somehow he is once again facing the potential loss of his daughter, the only piece of himself he has left it seems and he feels so incredibly alone. Not simply in the literal sense of being alone on the elevator, but in his situation. It seems he has nowhere to run to, no place to turn, nothing offering him peace.

He misses Louis. 

God, he _misses_ Louis.

He saw him only but an hour ago and yet all Harry can do is miss him still. He misses not only his physical presence, but he misses _knowing_ Louis, he misses the right to his friendship. To be able to freely rely on him and be around him without reason. Harry misses Louis’ arms around him, the feel of his soft fingertips on his skin. He misses Louis’ gentle voice whispering unfailing comforts and reassurances in his ear. He misses the palliative scent Harry can always find at the base of Louis’ neck. He misses the sound Louis makes when his beautifully uplifting laugh escapes his lips in surprise. Harry misses the devout strength of Louis’ eyes, holding up the weakness in his own.

Last night Harry went through one of the worst moments of his life, the world ended and yet being cocooned in the calm of Louis’ arms made him feel safer somehow, made it almost bearable. An unexplainable peace fell over him, making it painfully obvious that Harry never once stopped missing Louis from the very moment he stupidly decided to leave him.

No matter how they ended or what went on between them, Harry can never deny that Louis understands him more than anyone ever has. Like a sixth sense, he somehow always knows exactly what Harry needs, exactly when he needs it. Louis knows what to say, he knows what to do, he knows _him_.

Harry wraps his own arms around himself in a feeble attempt to self-soothe, nuzzling his head down against his own chest, but the tears come regardless. The tremors come regardless. The pain persists regardless.

Thank god he’s at least alone in the elevator as his relentless emotions gradually get the best of him. The longer he stands there, barely holding himself together, the more he tragically falls apart. And he starts to wonder how many times he can completely break down in the span of 48 hours, he must be reaching some sort of record by now. As much as he wants to stop himself from losing control, it’s futile when the pain hurts this severely. It’s too much, it’s far too much and he can’t possibly begin to handle any of it.

Harry at least tries to stop crying before the elevator doors open again, hoping to make it to his car or something, but the tears keep coming, wave after wave after wave until soon he is full on sobbing hysterically by himself, bracing the side of the elevator to keep from collapsing. 

The bell rings and the elevator doors slide open before Harry has even registered what’s going on, let alone pulled himself together by any standard. He looks up slowly, swiping at his dreadfully teary eyes and is shocked beyond belief to see Louis standing there. 

He looks to be a bit upset about something, muttering under his breath, but as soon as he realizes the elevator has arrived and he lifts his gaze from the ground, his eyes settle on Harry and his entire face completely softens with worry. Louis’ eyes wonder a wordless question, a silent concern as he stands just outside the elevator doors.

All pretenses forgotten, Harry drops his arms down to his sides weakly, not having the strength to even think about pretending to be ok. It’s all just too fucking much and honestly, he is barely standing upright.

_i’m not ok, i’m not_

Louis takes one look at him and immediately rushes into the elevator without a single word or question, enveloping Harry into his arms. Harry sighs against him, taking his first real breath of the hour as the doors close and that unmistakable and familiar peace rushes over him like a welcomed flood, bathing him in a momentary blanket of serenity.

Louis cradles Harry’s head gently, rocking him soothingly as his fingers weave through Harry’s curls. They don’t say anything to each other, only sharing silent comfort as Louis gently strokes Harry’s hair. Harry squeezes his arms desperately around Louis’ smaller frame, folding himself into his arms, head nuzzled into his neck as he cries heavily.

The two of them share so much history together, good and beautiful moments woven amidst so much heartbreak, tainted and ugly. And that same amount of history and understanding they share is evident in their tight embrace. Louis doesn’t ask why Harry is crying alone in an elevator, he doesn’t ask where Jesse is. He doesn’t ask what happened or how. He doesn’t ask for any explanation, he just is _there_ , safe and strong arms encircling Harry’s back. And Harry finds that Louis’ arms are the only place where he feels like he can even start to breathe again.

_i miss you so much…_

Harry wants, more than he’s ever admitted, to just stay wrapped up in Louis’ warm, safeguarding embrace. He remembers how similar it is to how they first met, Louis completely unhesitant to pull Harry right into his arms. A perfect stranger offering the perfect hug.

Louis wasn’t wrong, the hugs he gives are extraordinary, miraculous even. And through every single step of this never-ending ugly battle Harry is facing, the comfort Louis’ arms bring have continually saved him time and time again.

And that simple fact also brings about a new sense of confusion because Harry hasn’t forgotten his commitment to another man, a man he promised to marry. Harry knows that he cares for Jesse, but even still he finds his heart longing for Louis in a way he has never felt for anyone else in his life.

He longs to keep him, to hold him, to extend this fractured moment of peace forever. But this moment is fleeting. Soon the elevator bell will ding, and soon Louis will untangle his strong arms from Harry’s body, and soon Louis will exit the lift, and soon Harry will be all alone once again. All alone with all his problems weighing him down, eating him alive piece by piece.

And as soon as Harry thinks it, it happens. 

The elevator bell dings its imparting doom and Louis slowly pulls back. He stares into Harry’s eyes for a moment, conveying something Harry isn’t sure he understands. It’s meaningful and it’s sincere, but it’s also sad and full of uncertainty. And before Harry can properly place what he sees in Louis’ eyes, Louis turns away, having said nothing to Harry the entire time they were together. He disappears out of the lift and down the hall towards the main lobby, not turning back.

A group of nurses step on to the elevator and the metal doors close again before Harry can begin to process what just happened. Louis was here one minute and gone the next. The moment passed by so quickly, Harry almost feels as though he easily could have imagined it. All he can cling to is the lingering scent of Louis’ lost presence floating around him, the ghost of his sturdy arms holding him steady. And Harry fights so hard to hold onto it, bask in that fading feeling of safety for as long as he possibly can. But it doesn’t take long for Harry to feel just as empty and hopelessly scared as before.


	10. ten.

_the seams are jagged._

||✚||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBry251-yJc&index=3&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvHsoeXMkoExM-HzsVpaaTm)

Hours pass, blending into days, bleeding into weeks and all the while Harry stays glued to Avery’s unconscious side. Nurses and doctors come in and out, taking vitals, running labs, ordering a constant revolving door of tests, but nothing changes. Nothing fucking changes and Harry is hardly holding it together with each passing moment.

He tries to distract himself, tries to do what little work he can manage from Avery’s hospital room, but it’s all useless. He misses her. Harry misses his little Avery so much. He would do absolutely anything to see her bright dimpled smile again. Or hear that cute little laugh. He is dying to listen to Avery ramble on about her most recent passions, like the dire importance of saving the walruses along with all endangered aquatic life or sit and answer all of her many questions about the most random of things that are somehow exceedingly important to her. And Harry’s motto when it comes to his daughter has always been if it is important to Avery, then it is equally important to him.

If he could trade his life for hers he would, oh god, he _would_. If he could somehow throw himself in front of her and take the bullet aimed at her precious temple, he wouldn’t hesitate. But the bullet is already in her blood, coursing through her system, contained within her failing body. Harry can’t stop the gun from firing, but still he isn’t ready to pick up the fallen casings.

Jesse comes in and out, but he can never stay long. Always an excuse on his lips, talking of work or meetings or conferences, rambling out useless apologies and justifications for his repeated absence. Harry would be more upset if he had the energy, if he had the will to care. But all his emotional faculties are honed in on his daughter, focused on just being there for her, making sure she knows she is not alone. 

Harry spends hours talking to Avery, even though he knows she won’t respond back, but he doesn’t ever want her to feel lonely. He doesn’t know how much gets through to her, but it doesn’t quite matter because he would do it regardless. Harry reads to her and sings to her and he tells her every moment how much he loves her and how much he misses her.

Sometimes his mind drifts back to old memories of the two of them, when Avery was just a baby and Harry was an absolute mess trying to figure out his role of sudden fatherhood. One particular memory never fails to put a small smile on his face. His first real bonding moment with Avery all those years ago.

“Oh please, Avery please.” Harry begged, standing in the middle of the baby food isle with a collection of baby food jars in each of his hands and a 9-month old baby who wouldn’t stop screaming. He’d been in the store for the better part of an hour, trying desperately hard to figure out what Avery liked, all to no avail. Avery refused to eat, in fact she refused to do just about everything but cry, all day and all night it seemed.

And Harry felt way out of his league, having no earthly idea how to calm her down or how to get her to eat regularly. She wouldn’t even sleep and Harry felt what nonexistent energy he had left completely depleting before his eyes. He’d tried everything—he’d bought a hoard of new parenting books and watched countless videos, but no where does anything cover his specific and unique situation. As hard as he tried, Harry just didn’t have a bond with Avery yet—he was probably just some other random person to her at this point.

“Please stop crying—please, Avery…” Harry tried again with little to no hope whatsoever.

Avery’s entire face glowed bright red as she wailed inconsolably, frustrated cries echoing throughout the grocery store.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, ok? I don’t know! I don’t get it!” Harry groaned in utter frustration, pleading that she’d just cut him a break. “You won’t help me out at all, all you do is cry and scream at me! I don’t know how to take care of you! I can’t do this…”

Avery only cried harder, face worked up beyond belief. Passerby shoppers looked at them in concern, whispering to themselves as they continued on their way about the store.

“Avery, you have to meet me halfway here, please?” Harry pled, bending down a bit to her eye level. “What if I open them up and you can taste them and we can see which ones you like? Huh? How about that? Will you do that for me?”

She of course cried regardless, paying almost no mind to anything Harry was saying to her. He grabbed a couple of jars out of the cart, popping the tops off of them in hopes of inspiring Avery to want to eat one of them.

Harry held a jar of blended carrot in front of her face, praying that maybe, just maybe it would entice her enough to stop crying. “Doesn’t that smell good, Avery? Yes, yes it does.”

Avery screamed her absolute disapproval, wailing at what has got to be the top of her tiny lungs.

“Or no. Maybe it doesn’t. Ok. Got it.” Harry held his free hand up in surrender and then set the open jar down. He picked up a new flavor that was also orange tinted, mixed with pumpkin and squash.

“Ok, so how about this one?” Harry twisted the cap off and offered it to her slowly. And Avery didn’t even open her eyes, content on just screaming her little head off. “Ok, so not that one either. Are you sure? Really sure? I guess that’s a definite no.”

Harry went through jar after jar, opening up nearly every type of baby food flavor and brand available until the area around their cart was littered with open jars. But Avery seemed to have the same adverse reaction every single time, completely uninterested and even angered by the appearance of baby food. She cried irritably, moving her head away from every small jar offered as she continued to through a fit.

And to be honest, Harry wanted to cry along with her. He just wanted to give up and scream and cry and yell and throw a tantrum of his own. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. A twenty-four year old single dad was not how he ever expected to describe his life. And it felt so unfair in so many ways, but there was not a damn thing he could do about it.

Harry sank down to the probably filthy floor of the store, holding his head in his hands as his overwhelmed, exhausted and despondently frustrated feelings got the best of him. How was he going to reasonably survive life as a dad if he couldn’t even get her to eat? And in Harry’s depressed and discouraged state, his mind escalated from zero to one hundred on the worst case scenario scale nearly instantaneously. If he can’t feed her then she’ll die of starvation and it will all be his fault and he’s pretty sure that’s some form of child neglect or something horrible and serious and then he’ll be in trouble with the law and then he’ll probably be a felon, but then maybe he’d be deported for abusing his rights as a green card holder and then who knows what might happen next, maybe he’d become a fugitive on the run or just say _fuck it_ and become an actual criminal—but maybe he doesn’t quite have the demeanor to be “bad”—he could never survive as a drug lord or a spy or assassin or some shit like that, he’d probably turn himself in after the first failed go of it, but it doesn’t matter because all of this would only be the result of him failing to care for a _baby_. 

Harry looked up from his existential crisis only to see a store employee giving him a judgmental look from the front of the aisle, eyeing all the opened baby food jars scattered around him, along with the screaming baby still sat in the cart.

“Oh, no…” Harry sniffled, swiping at his tearful eyes as he stood to his feet again and tried to regain composure. “I’ll buy all of them—I swear. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m having a really hard time and a horribly shitty day trying to be a parent and I suck at it—you didn’t ask to know that, sorry—I’ll pay for it all, really, I promise. Sorry, sorry.”

The employee’s expression quickly morphed from judgmental to sympathetic as he considered Harry’s clearly calamitous state. He gave Harry a piteous nod before walking away, leaving Harry once again alone with his baby food jars and still crying baby.

“Fuck...” Harry groaned to himself, throwing his head back. He’s such an embarrassment, he doesn’t know what his life has become anymore, and he surely doesn’t recognize it as his own. But the fact of the matter is, this _is_ his life now and he’s got to find a way to make it work no matter how hopeless it may seem.

Harry took in a deep centralizing breath, zoning his attention back to the screeching infant, wailing from the cart. “Avery, hi, hey…” He cooed in a softer tone than before, in an attempt to soothe her. “Ok Avery, it’s gonna be just you and me for a while now, yeah. So we have to work together…How about I taste it with you, huh? Would that help? What do you think?”

Harry popped open a jar of something made up of yams, carrots and peas. It was an odd puce color and it didn’t look all that appetizing at all, but perhaps if she saw him eat it, she’d be more inclined to do so herself— _hopefully_.

He stuck his finger in the jar and lifted a hearty serving to his mouth, making a show of eating it while nodding his head as if it’s the single best thing he’s ever eaten. “Yummy yummy—ugh god that’s _nasty!”_ Harry choked, sputtering out baby food all over his own shirt. “No wonder you hate it…”

But Harry’s choking, interested Avery enough to pause her incessant crying, just staring back at Harry curiously with a deep frown on her face.

“Hey...you stopped crying…” Harry coughed, still choking on the baby food lodged in his throat. His cough involuntarily jerked his hand, causing baby food to unfortunately splatter on his face and his T-shirt. “Wonderful…this is just _wonderful_.”

At that, Avery immediately started to giggle in complete amusement, reaching up at Harry’s baby food covered face with a wide smile on her face.

“Oh, you’re laughing at me now, great.” Harry nodded a bit sarcastically as he used his already soiled shirt to wipe the blended baby gunk from his face.

She continued giggling, tiny cheeks still red and wet, but her face beamed happily up at him.

And to her credit, Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her, his own frown morphing slowly into a full on grin. Her laugh was infectious, paired with her tiny dimples and cute little baby teeth, she was absolutely precious.

“Well I guess it is kinda funny, huh?” Harry laughed along, reaching down into the cart to grab one of the boxes of cereal he threw in there earlier. He figured since he’d already opened everything else, he might as well have a little snack of his own.

Harry opened a box of Honey Nut Cheerios, popping a handful into his mouth as he leaned against the cart next to Avery. She watched him intently, no longer laughing, but not crying either and Harry considered it progress. “Do you like Cheerios?”

He held a few out on his hand to her and surprisingly enough she reached her grubby little fingers out and took them easily, slowly bringing them into her mouth.

“Oh, wow look at that. I guess you’ve got the munchies too.” Harry grinned softly down at her as they munched on cereal together. “You know Munchie would be a kinda cute name for you, you’ve got the chubby munchkin cheeks and everything.”

She quickly finished her few pieces of cereal and then made grabby hands at him again, clearly wanting more.

“Alright, Munchie, _alright_.” Harry laughed in a fond sort of way, giving her a few more cereal pieces to munch on. “Well forget the baby food, I’m only feeding you Cheerios from now on.”

And the funny thing is, she’s still oddly obsessed with cereal to this day. Harry did get her onto baby food eventually, not so much the vegetable flavors at first, but she did take a liking to the fruit flavors. Banana became a favorite of hers and she loved to have it mixed with Cheerios. Odd, but effective.

Harry misses those days now more than ever, those innocent pure days of just the two of them struggling it out together, not knowing what to do. It was hard at the time, impossibly hard, but even still it was all so much easier than this. Harry so desperately misses his little Munchie and he could say it a million times over and it wouldn’t be any less true, he misses every single thing about her, and he doesn’t know what he can do.

Every day that he doesn’t hear her voice or see her smile or share her laugh, a piece of Harry tragically dims. She was his light in a dark place, everything about her glows from within. Her little heart is always so filled joy, encapsulating happiness with every one of her bright giggles. And what’s even more beautiful about Avery is that her personality is infectious, the hopeful enthusiasm she carries in her heart spreads so quickly, so easily touching everyone she interacts with.

So much so that Avery easily got all the medical staff on her floor to fall in love with her since she’d been initially diagnosed all those months ago, and her entire room is proof of it. Tons of flower bouquets and get well balloons tied to fluffy stuffed animals, mostly walruses and ladybugs, decorate her room and even though she isn’t awake to see it, Harry knows she’d absolutely love it. And that lovely dimpled smile that he misses so much would easily spread across her face.

Harry is not the only one who misses her, he’s seen Louis whisper to her too. When Harry gets up for little walks around the hospital, sometimes he’ll come back to find Louis on the edge of her bed. It’s not a medical visit, Harry knows that. It’s personal. Louis cares about her and the bond he has with Avery is rare and special. So Harry never interferes, letting them have their time together.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XfxP4ORIIOY&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvHsoeXMkoExM-HzsVpaaTm&index=4)

They don’t talk about whatever happened in the elevator, but there is a subtle shift between them. Whether it is a good or bad shift, Harry doesn’t quite know, but the previous qualms between them have ceased. Louis has taken to stopping by every so often, just popping in to say hello and ask how Avery is doing, even though Harry knows that Louis obviously already knows the answer because he is her doctor after all. But soon Harry comes to realize that Louis is more so asking how Harry is doing, subtly trying to check up on him. And Harry finds that their little daily exchange, no matter how brief, is rapidly becoming the only good part of his long days.

“How is she today?” Louis asks from the doorway to Avery’s room, leaning against the frame as he watches Harry closely.

Harry lifts his head at the unexpected sound of Louis’ voice, he glances back towards Avery’s stationary body before sadly casting his head back down again. He does a quick internal diagnostic of his own disheartened emotions before slowly answering with the exact opposite of how he really feels. “Ok…yeah…alright…” He whispers and it doesn’t even sound believable to his own ears.

_i’m barely holding on_

Louis seems to already know the truth Harry is hardly concealing and he begins to venture further into the hospital room. And it’s not at all surprising that as the distance between them diminishes, the safer Harry begins to feel. Having him in the room makes Harry feel a bit less lonely, even if only for a moment, and he wishes Louis would stay with him for the rest of the day, keep him safe, keep him grounded.

“Have you um…eaten anything?” Louis tries, keeping his tone as light as he can.

Harry just looks at him, wondering how truly awful he must look through the eyes of someone else. He caught a glimpse of himself earlier this morning and he hardly recognized his own desolate face. Dark, heavy bags under his eyes from all the nights of rest he isn’t having, accompanied by a horrid puffy redness from all the time he’s spent crying instead.

“Well—because um…I was just on my way to the coffee shop across the street…” Louis explains, hands stuffed down in his lab coat pockets as he sways a bit on his feet. “The one we uh—erm anyway…I know you don’t want to leave her…but I could uh pick something up for you? If you’d like? Yeah…”

“Oh, I…um…” Harry mumbles, pushing his fallen, greasy hair back from his face. Louis doesn’t have to do him any favors or go out of his way to help him. It’s not his responsibility to care for him.

“Harry, you should really eat something…” Louis suggests gently, moving a little closer as he meets Harry’s gaze seriously. “Food is probably the last thing on your mind right now but…you need to eat. And I don’t mind…like I said, I was going there anyway…”

Harry is immediately reminded of all the times Louis would ensure that Harry ate something after his sister passed away. He definitely would have starved himself to death back then if it wasn’t for Louis constantly worrying over him, always trying to take care of his needs. Louis has always been so sweet to him, even now with all that hangs in the air between them, he’s still just as sweet and just as kind and it somehow makes Harry want to cry—as everything does these days.

“Ok…” Harry agrees finally, knowing that food probably couldn’t hurt. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Louis shrugs with a small smile as he moves towards the door again. But then he pauses, turning back around to face Harry slowly. “Um…I have a free hour before my next surgery…” He starts tentatively, and his voice sounds so much quieter. “I can sit with you if you want um…I mean I don’t have to if you don’t wa—”

“Yes.” Harry blurts, unable to deter the desperation from leaking through his voice. He can’t begin to speak on how impossibly lonely he has been, but perhaps Louis already knows that. “Erm—I mean if you’re not busy…”

_please stay with me…_

“I’m not busy.” Louis reassures with a gentle nod. “So, I’m gonna go pick up the food and I’ll be right back.”

It only takes Louis fifteen minutes to go to the coffee shop and back, carting an entire bag full of baked goods as well as two drink orders, one for each of them. Harry thanks him repeatedly, knowing there is no way he can eat all of these scones by himself, but Louis only smiles softly, meeting Harry’s _thank you’s_ with concerned yet serious reminders to eat.

Louis settles down in the empty chair on the other side of Avery’s bed with his own cup of coffee and a scone, quietly updating charts on his tablet. Harry picks at two different scones at once, because for whatever reason he is wildly indecisive right now. And while he slowly starts to eat for the first time in what might be days, he attempts to read through and answer the dozens of unread emails from his job. And even though they hardly speak to each other the whole time, having Louis there with his gentle calming presence means more to Harry than anything else.

 

||✚||

 

The days continue to trudge by, with no change to Avery’s condition. April 5th comes along, the anniversary of Gemma’s death, which also happens to be Avery’s birthday. Harry decided long ago that on this day, they will only celebrate life, not mourn loss.

But on this particular April 5th, Harry doesn’t feel like celebrating life much at all, especially since his reason to celebrate life is fighting to keep hers. He can’t shake his downcast mood even when Louis pops by, instead he sits motionless in the chair right next to Avery’s bed, gently holding one of her tiny hands with both of his. He’s been sitting here, in this exact unmoving spot, for hours, only staring at her, willing her to come back to him.

_wake up, baby…please wake up…_

“It’s her birthday…” Harry whispers in the smallest voice, not even looking up at Louis, just feeling his presence in the room.

Louis nods slowly, smiling sadly at the comatose child as he speaks just as quietly. “I know…I could never forget today.” 

“I had hoped that maybe she’d…she’d wake up in time for it.” Harry lifts one of his hands to swipe at his eyes. He feels like he should have cried himself dry by now, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. “She loves birthdays…”

Louis moves a bit further into the room, coming to stand by Harry’s side in silence.

“I can’t believe she’s already nine years old…” Harry whispers in saddened awe, hand clasped tightly to Avery’s. He shakes his head painfully, taking in a shuddered breath. “Nine years ago, I wished that Gemma was here instead of her and now she’s—she…”

Harry can’t even finish his sentence, closing his eyes as quiet trickles drip from his eyes.

“Harry, you were grieving then that was ages ago.” Louis rests a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder and Harry tilts his head slightly towards his touch. “Everyone thinks things they don’t really mean when they’re upset.”

“But I _meant_ it. Louis, I really meant it.” Harry finally looks up to meet Louis’ eyes tragically, saltwater overflowing down his cheeks. “And it doesn’t matter when it was…I’m supposed to be her f-father and I…I failed h-her…all I do is fail her.” 

The remorse Harry feels seems never ending these days. There are so many things he could have done differently, so many things that horribly altered the trajectory of Avery’s life. Avery had the potential to have two parents in her life, she could have had a stable home all this time, a _loving_ stable home. He keeps repeating what Louis said to him a few months ago, replaying it and envisioning what it could have looked like if things were different, if he’d never left.

_i loved her like she was mine and as far as i was concerned, i was one of her parents. and i would have always been that for her..._

Who knows what life would look like for her, who knows how things would have evolved and changed if Louis was actively apart of her life every step of the way. It hurts to think about; it hurts realizing that the actions Harry long justified as right, caused more damage than he could have ever imagined.

“That’s not true. Avery knows you love her, she knows you would do anything for her.” Louis reminds softly, hand still rested reassuringly on Harry’s shoulder.

“I would... _anything…_ ” Harry’s voice cracks through the word, but he means it with his entire heart and then some. He would go to the ends of the earth to stop her suffering, to find a way to heal her failing body. And he will never know the words to describe how watching his child go through this tears him up inside.

Harry stands up, leaning over his daughter to press a long, broken kiss to her forehead. His shed tears spill over, falling down to her serene, still head. “Happy birthday, Munchie. I love you, sweetheart…” He sniffles, words hardly given enough sound to be audible. Harry inhales deeply, trying hard not to break down again in front of Louis. He rubs harshly at his eyes, already moving towards the door. “I…I’m gonna uh…get some fresh air…” 

“Ok...” Louis nods quietly, watching Harry closely, although he doesn’t stop him from leaving. Harry can practically feel Louis worrying over him, but as much as Harry wants to bury himself in Louis, he needs to breathe and process everything on his own.

 

||☤||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BxhdywWbtEk&index=5&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvHsoeXMkoExM-HzsVpaaTm)

“Happy birthday, Aves.” Louis whispers as he drops down into the chair Harry was just sitting in. 

Part of him, a scarily large part, wants to run right after Harry and make sure he’s ok. Like some kind of reflex action, Louis wants to always ensure that Harry is alright, but he also understands that Harry needs his space, he needs the chance to deal with things as best he can. Plus, although Louis completely disapproves, Harry still has a fiancé whose arms he can run to and find comfort in if need be, so Louis decides the only place he needs to be is right next to his favorite girl.

Louis hates seeing her like this more than anything, so quiet and helpless, void of the life that makes her shine so brightly. But Louis likes to talk to her anyway, as if she’ll somehow answer him right back; they once had so many conversations, so many laughs, so many jokes. Louis can almost hear them echoing through his head and the memory tugs his lips into a sad, tilted smile.

“You know, even though I wasn’t physically with you, I thought about you every single year on this day—your birthday. I wondered how big you’d gotten or if you’d maybe gone through any quirky developmental phases as a toddler. I kept trying to guess what your favorite food might be or your favorite color—I always pictured it as being yellow. Bright and radiant like the little golden specks in your eyes. I thought about what your hobbies might be or how your personality might have developed. I tried so hard to picture how beautiful you were…” Louis describes softly. “And you know? Now that I know you again, I can say that you are 100% more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”

Louis takes her limp hand in his, lacing their fingers together. He stares down at their joined hands, letting out a distraught breath. “I’m so sorry that you aren’t awake to enjoy your day, Aves. I know how much you love birthdays…but I want you to know that so many people love you and miss you terribly. The world isn’t the same without you.”

He runs his thumb along her small hand gently, feeling the faint but steady pulse thrumming through her veins.

“I got you a birthday gift.” Louis tells her next. At first he wasn’t going to do it, figuring that maybe it wasn’t quite appropriate. But now, with her life hanging in the balance, Louis decided he had to do it, especially since he’s never been able to give her a gift in the past. He reaches into his pocket and pulls a black jewelry box out of his lab coat. He spent hours picking it out, wanting it to be absolutely perfect for her. And what he finally decided on after much back and forth between him and the jeweler, is a gold bracelet adorned by several customized charms that make up little pieces of Avery.

“I hope you like it, love. It’s got loads of cute charms on it that I thought you’d like.” Louis takes the bracelet out of the box to look through the charms he picked out, not that he forgot them. He oddly feels sort of nervous about it, even though Avery won’t be able to respond. He just wanted to do something special for her and he wanted her to always have something to remember him by. “There’s of course a walrus because how could there not be, right? And a little lemon because of our mutual friend, Lemon The Walrus. There’s an ‘A’ for Avery and a tiny ladybug…because you love those too. And a yellow sunflower because those are your favorite. Oh, and there’s a little crayon for all the times we spent coloring together. How very cheesy, I know.” Louis laughs a bit to himself, imagining what Avery would say or how she’d try and tease him. “But I thought it was really cute, yeah.”

Louis pauses as his finger’s settle on the the last charm on the bracelet, staring down at it in his hand.

“And the last one is from me—well they are all from me, obviously, but…um this one is especially from me…cuz you’re my little heartbreaker...” Louis’ voice falls down to a whisper, the words coming out shakily. He fiddles with the charm in his hand, a small locket heart with the word _Aves_ engraved on its shiny gold surface. Inside the locket holds an old picture of a young intern Louis cradling a smiling baby Avery in the NICU.

“Funny story, I found this picture only a few weeks ago…” Louis explains as he opens up the small heart. “I was down in the NICU waiting for a patient of mine and on the wall is a huge mural of pictures of newborn and premature babies that made it. It’s always been there, but I…I dunno? I never really paid any mind to it before. But I had some time, so I looked over them—hundreds of pictures overlapping each other, covering the whole wall, but somehow I spotted this one…of you and me.” He looks back down at the image inside the locket, taking several breaths in hopes of keeping himself calm. “I remember that day…it was the day you were cleared to finally go home. You were—god, you were so gorgeous. That’s the day I started calling you Aves, and you just… _loved_ it.” He smiles a bit as he remembers how truly beautiful his little baby was, all smiles and giggles as he held her in his arms.

_i miss you aves, please wake up…_

“Anyway…I hope one day you’ll be able to wear it…” Louis sighs with heavy sadness in his heart, closing the locket and placing the bracelet back inside the jewelry box. He sets it down on the table next to her bed along with a birthday card he wrote for her. “I hope one day you’ll come back to us.”

 

||✚||

 

Whether positive or negative, the solitary time to himself over the last few weeks does give Harry space to think. Think about himself, about his life, about his relationships, his choices, his mistakes. It’s something Harry hates to do. He hates confronting himself in any aspect, laying out his choices and facing them head on. He always somehow ends up even more confused by the end.

Harry knows what he’s avoiding, of course he does. It becomes more apparent each day that passes. But the thing is, Harry cares about his fiancé, he really does. Things aren’t great between them right now, far from it actually, but he still cares for Jesse and he’d never want him to get hurt. But at the same time, he gets the feeling that staying with Jesse is the easy way out. Yet he doesn’t know what to do about it, more so, he doesn’t know exactly what he wants to do about it.

Harry would be lying if he said that he ever felt the same around Jesse that he does for Louis. Louis has a way of bringing the very best out of him, complimenting parts of Harry in ways that he never thought possible. But that doesn’t stop Harry from feeling hopelessly confused, somehow he has become so disconnected with his own emotions, so locked within himself, that he can hardly decipher or even begin to separate how he really feels. Harry can’t seem to put the lingering emotions to tangible words and express himself.

There is still so much space separating him from Louis, so many things need to be said and talked about, everything is charged and distant but yet—what is it that still makes him feel so safe around Louis? What makes him feel so secure just being in his presence? The fact that Harry is going through one of the roughest storms in his life, but when he looks at Louis he feels momentarily at peace, like drifting into the eye of the storm—that can’t mean _nothing._ It can’t. Right?

His already strong feelings for Louis grow stronger and more complicated everyday. It’s growing harder and harder to fight them off and keep them at bay and Harry isn’t sure he even wants to anymore. But the fact remains that he has a fiancé. A man he was planning on making a lifelong commitment to, a man he has been faithfully committed to for the past four years, a man he is supposed to _love_ and that also has to count for something. Right?

Harry doesn’t know. He doesn’t know and it’s continually fucking him up inside.

It’s a little after 9 p.m. when Julie, Harry’s favorite evening nurse comes by. He knows them all well now, all the nurses over all the shifts. Harry is here all the time and they’ve basically become the only people he sees anymore, they were bound to become well acquainted.

After Julie makes sure everything is in order with Avery’s vital readings, as she routinely does every few hours, she turns her attention towards Harry, giving him a look he’s come to easily recognize over the passing weeks.

“Harry, I know this is so hard for you and all you want to do is be here for her, but sometimes a little time away can do some good, you know?” Julie tries gently, eyeing him with genuine concern. “Maybe go home and sleep in your own bed and recharge. I think you’ll feel better if you do.”

“No, I can’t leave her. I can’t.” Harry insists, although a bit weakly. He’s so exhausted, it’s hard being here 24/7, he honestly doesn’t remember the last time he had a good night’s sleep. Every time he goes home, it’s always quick, in and out, grab a shower and clean clothes and that’s it.  Harry doesn’t want to leave Avery, he’s left her and failed her so many times in the past and he refuses to do it again. What if she wakes up and he’s not here, or even worse, what if something happens to her—he would never forgive himself if he wasn’t here for his daughter.

“Harry, you can’t take care of her if your own health suffers. You need to go home. At least for the night, ok?” Julie strongly suggests, in a way that Harry knows means that the nurses will probably gang up against him if that’s what it takes to get him to go home. “We are all worried about you. All the nurses.”

Harry wants to continue protesting, but he can’t even think of what to say in his defense, weariness clouding his thinking. “But I…”

“I promise if anything changes, I’ll alert you straightaway. You have my word.” Julie assures, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Harry does feel absolutely worn out, not just emotionally, but physically. He could definitely stand for a good night’s rest in his own bed. And that’s how he finds himself pulling into driveway of his home. A few of the lights are on upstairs which means Jesse must be home somewhere. Which is both a good and bad thing, Harry thinks.

Good, because this is the first time in who knows how many days that Harry has come in contact with Jesse aside from brief phone calls and scattered text messages. They’ve been passing by each other repeatedly, schedules hardly ever seeming to align properly on Jesse’s part and all Harry has been trying to do is have a conversation with him to clear the air.

Which is why it’s also a bad thing that Jesse is home, because as much as Harry just wants to go to sleep, he has things on his heart that he needs to come clean about and he can’t push it off anymore. Harry wants to be honest about how conflicted he’s been feeling lately and all the guilt it carries. He doesn’t want to hurt Jesse, but it’ll hurt him more if Harry doesn’t come clean about this now, before it’s too late. He isn’t sure what he wants the outcome to be for them just yet, but Harry wants to avoid blindsiding Jesse at the very least. He can’t hide the way he feels forever and if he doesn’t start being honest, it will only get worse.

Harry trudges through the doorway, groggily stumbling his way down the opening hall towards the kitchen. He hasn’t been home at all in a few days, he realizes, but everything is nearly exactly how he left it, save for the new stack of mail Jesse must have picked up splayed across the counter. He absently flicks through it, hardly reading over the many bills, interspersed with magazines and junk mail. His stomach begins to grumble angrily at him and Harry remembers that he’s hardly eaten a single thing all day, his appetite having been essentially nonexistent ever since Avery’s been hospitalized. Harry can barely stomach even the sight of food most days, constantly worried sick and anxious over his child. He probably wouldn’t eat at all if it wasn’t for Louis routinely dropping off food just for him.

Harry forces himself to eat at least a banana, deciding it’ll have to do as a makeshift meal for now. He follows it up with a generous glass of red wine, hoping it will help lull him to sleep.

Sleepily, Harry trudges up the stairs, shuffling down the hallway to the master bedroom with his wine glass in hand. He thinks he registers the sound of voices—or maybe just one voice, he’s practically delirious with exhaustion and can hardly tell what’s what right now. Jesse talking on the phone with work, most likely.

Harry opens the bedroom door and instantly drops the filled wine glass, hardly feeling the stem slip between his fingers. The dark red liquid seeps angrily into the light colored carpet, but Harry can’t even focus on that at all because his attention is locked straight ahead on the scene unfolding before him. The sight of it nearly burns his corneas on impact. Any and all notions of having a good night’s sleep instantly destroyed as he is suddenly more awake and alert than he’s been all day. The banana lurking in the pits of his stomach instantly threatens to make a reappearance, jumping up to lodge in his throat. Harry looks on in absolute shock at the unwelcome sight of his fiancé, his future spouse, the supposed love of his horribly damned life, moaning and groaning obscenely along with the very fit, very _vocal,_ blonde man beneath him.

There are obviously no good parts to finding out his fiancé is sleeping with someone else, but the absolute worst part of all is, Jesse has never, _ever_ fucked him like that. In fact, he always complains about topping because it’s apparently “too much work” and whenever he does top, Jesse is pretty lazy about it to say the least.

Well, he sure doesn’t seem to be complaining much this time around. Ain’t that a bitch. 

_i should have known…_

“Oh my god…” Harry breathes faintly, mouth hanging open in absolute horror. His hand is still gripping the bedroom door, holding on to it for dear life, about ready to yank it from its hinges. He feels all the blood drain from his face, as his heart rate tries to decide whether completely flatlining or beating uncontrollably is a more appropriate response.

“Fuck! _Harry_!” Jesse jumps in startled surprise as he notices Harry standing in the room, instantly pulling away from the blonde man. “W-What are you…why are you home?”

“Um…let’s see, well? I live here? It’s my house?” Harry answers obviously in mocking question. Although somehow he feels painfully out of place in his own home, gawking near the doorway on shaky legs, having only made it that far into the room.

“But…but—I thought y-you were staying at the hospital o-overnight?” Jesse stutters, holding a pillow to his groin as if Harry hasn’t already seen it all. And then some.

“Yeah, _obviously_ you did...” Harry’s eyes don’t leave the bed—can’t leave the bed. The repeated imagery of his fiancé grinding against another man, projecting through his head on an unstoppable, burning loop.

“Umm…I should go…” Blondie pipes up suddenly, starting to move out of the king sized bed and slide on a pair of briefs.

“Oh, no! Please don’t get up on account of me.” Harry jumps to say, taking a brave step forward. “And excuse my manners. I’m Harry, the fiancé of the dick you were just riding. Lovely to meet you.”

Harry shocks even himself with the boldness of his words, it’s amazing that he hasn’t started to fall apart yet. A large piece of him is ready to curl up into a ball and sob, but he is actively fighting against it. He is not going to break down, not right now anyway.

The blonde guy’s face pales even more and he looks completely scandalized by the news, nauseous even. He frantically looks over to Jesse, who won’t even meet his eyes. Pity.

“Harry…” Jesse whimpers his name painfully, laced with regret and shame.

“No, no _really_ Jesse, at least finish him off. Don’t be rude to our guest.” Harry mocks, gesturing back to the cowering blonde man. “You’re being a poor host.”

Jesse tosses a gaze at the blonde man in bed next to him. “Chris, I think you should go.”

_you think._

“I…I didn’t k-know, I swear!” Chris insists, looking towards Harry apologetically. “I’m so sorry—if I knew I wouldn’t have—”

“Leave.” Jesse interrupts him forcefully.

Chris nods solemnly, looking as though he might burst into tears at any moment. He collects his clothes off of the floor and slinks apologetically behind Harry to exit the room.

“Oh but, hey!” Harry calls after Chris in a scornfully cheerful tone. “Don’t forget to call, I’m sure Jesse will be free next week. You do have his number right? If not, I can—”

“Harry!” Jesse pleads in agony again, eyes rimming with saltwater.

“Wow, Jesse you let him get away? He seems like _such_ a catch. Apologetic and everything. I mean you must really like him if you fucked him like—”

“Harry, please.” Jesse begs in utter humiliation.

“Or was it only too much work with me?” Harry questions, sucking on his teeth in exaggerated consideration.

“Stop Harry! Stop it! Just stop, ok?”

“Stop what, Jes? Huh, _babe_? I’m just admiring the piece of ass you desecrated our relationship for.” Harry spits, words laced with resentment. He glares at Jesse, begging him to look him in the eye and refute his words, he wants Jesse to meet his eyes so Harry can see the exact moment the man he thought he loved lies to him.

“No, it’s really not like that Harry—I love you—”

“Oh, you love me? Really? Is that why I just caught you fucking someone else in our bed! _Our_ BED! God!” Harry yells angrily in disgust as he starts ripping the soiled sheets off of the mattress. “I don’t need this right now!”

Jesse shakes his head frantically. “I…I made a mistake…I didn’t—” 

“Didn’t look like a mistake a few minutes ago.” Harry argues. “Is this what you’ve been doing? What you’ve been so ‘busy’ with? Why I hardly even so much as see you anymore?”

Jesse pales even more, stammering and stuttering. “I…well…no…I mean—”

Harry stops stripping the bed suddenly to look up and meet Jesse’s eyes once more. “How long?”

Jesse tilts his head remorsefully. “Harry, please…”

“How long?!” Harry shouts this time, marching over to where Jesse cowers in the middle of the room.

Jesse shakes his head repeatedly, fighting tears. “I-It doesn’t…it d-doesn’t matter—”

“Oh, don’t tell me it doesn’t matter! Don’t fucking tell me that it doesn’t matter, Jesse!” Harry yells furiously. “It matters!”

“It was just one time and—”

“Don’t! Don’t fucking lie to me Jesse, you owe me at least that much!”

Jesse remains silent, but in his silence the truth is revealed, like a revelation pelting Harry down to the ground.

Harry staggers back, shaking his head with betrayal laden eyes. “So…since Avery got sick…” He drifts off, putting the missing puzzle pieces together in his head. “That’s what you’re saying, right?” Harry looks up, hand on his wildly beating chest. The writing has always been on the wall, hasn’t it? “When you kept making excuse after excuse…when there was always something that came up…or somewhere you had to be…something so much more important than me—that night…that night when Avery seized and you weren’t there…”

Jesse rushes towards him in an attempt to wrap him up in his arms. “Babe, please—”

“Oh, no, no don’t fucking ‘babe’ me!” Harry jolts away from him like his touch physically burns his flesh, and maybe it does. “Are you seriously telling me that instead of being my goddamn fiancé and holding my hand during the hardest time of my life, you were out having an _affair_?!”

“It wasn’t an affair!” Jesse cries, scraping a hand through his messy hair.

Harry lets out a mordant laugh at that. “Oh, ok. My mistake. Then what was it, Jesse? What the ever loving fuck was it!?”

“I don’t know! An escape! I just needed somewhere that wasn’t all about death and cancer and…and…at first it was just someone to talk to, but then… I don’t know—it just happened…”

“It just _happened_! Are you serious!? Well, excuse me if my daughter’s brain cancer is an inconvenience to you and your happy-go-lucky life!” Harry spits sardonically, hands waving wildly in the air around him. “No, fuck you! This whole time—this _whole_ time you’ve been betraying me...repeatedly stabbing me in the back!”

“You were busy and we’ve been seeing each other less and less. It was always about Avery and there was always something more important than us happeni—”

“My daughter is dying! She is _dying_!” Harry screams angrily, hands raised above his head. “And you’re complaining that I was too busy for you?! You selfish bastard! You know what I’ve been going though, you know how much Avery means to me! Do you think I chose this?! That I fucking wished this upon my life and I’m doing it all out of spite for you?! _God_!” Harry throws his head back and lets out a deep livid groan. “How self-obsessed are you!? Did you even care about her!? At all!? About me, even?! I needed you, Jesse! I needed support. I still do need support and every time I looked to you, you were nowhere to be found—” 

“Yes, well I’m sure the almighty and beloved Dr. Louis Tomlinson can save the day! Always ready to lend a shoulder to cry on!” Jesse interrupts bitterly, shoving Louis’ name down his throat with so much belittlement Harry could choke on the words. “I’m sure your cherished blast from the past can fulfill all your supportive needs!”

“Don’t you  _dare_ bring him into this!” Harry seethes, practically grunting his words through his teeth at this point.  

“He’s part of this! He’s the reason for this! I would have never cheated if it wasn’t for him! Ever since he came along, our life has been a nightmare!”

“A nightmare?! He is her doctor!” Harry yells exasperatedly, hands raised. “He is fighting to save her life! Louis _cares_! Which is far more than I can say about you!”

“Oh yeah sure, he cares alright…” Jesse spits resentfully, rolling his eyes vindictively. “I see how he looks at you, how you act around each other. I see all the little moments you share. I’m not fucking blind!”

Harry shakes his head slowly, waving a cautionary hand at Jesse. “You don’t know anything about him. You don’t—you don’t know what we had…what he was…to me…” He looks down for a moment, voice falling off as he considers his own words.

“Oh, so you _did_ have something then?” Jesse taunts, almost righteously, stepping closer to Harry. “What was he to you, Harry? Really, I’m dying to know. Because every time I ask the fucking story changes!”

“Stop.” Harry warns, eyes narrowed as he clenches his hands at his sides.

“‘Oh, he was just my sister’s doctor!’ Or ‘were just old friends!’ And my personal favorite, ‘nothing ever happened between us!’ Lies! Lies! Lies!” Jesse continues, getting more and more cocky about it, sauntering about Harry’s face as he tries to turn this back on him. “So what is he to you, Harry? Because obviously there is more to the story. Let’s just get it out in the open now. A fuck buddy that got too clingy, maybe? A needy little bitch who can’t move on—”

At that Harry instantly snaps, hand flying to slap Jesse hard across the face before he even registers what he is even doing. “Don’t you ever talk about Louis like that.” Harry snarls venomously through his teeth, eyes fierce and unwavering. “Louis has been nothing but kind to me, even when I didn’t deserve it. He was there for me when you weren’t. When you were out fucking random men in our fucking bed. So don’t you _ever_ speak his name with anything but respect.”

Harry’s breathing grows harder, shoulders rising and falling heavily as emotions course through his adrenaline ridden body. He lowers his hand slowly, staggering backwards on weak legs until he drops down on the ottoman positioned in front of their bed feebly, head cradled in his hands. 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLZcFJLdPiI&index=6&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvHsoeXMkoExM-HzsVpaaTm)

After a moment, Jesse drops down in front of him, hands on Harry’s knees. “I’m sorry…” He whispers softly, laying his head down to rest on Harry’s lap. “I’m sorry, whatever he is to you—I won’t bring it up again. I’m sorry…” 

Harry just stares blankly at the now darkened wine stain by the doorway, not moving as Jesse wedges himself in between his legs, snaking his arms around Harry’s middle. He can’t seem to tear his gaze from that same looming spot, a physical reminder of the exact moment his heart registered betrayal. Jesse continues to grovel, nuzzling his face against Harry’s lifeless, unimpressed body. He can’t believe he spent hours agonizing over Jesse’s feelings, over his wellbeing and all the while he was out setting fire to Harry’s heart.

_how did i get here…_

“Please talk to me, baby please…I love you.” Jesse begs, mumbling his words into the bunched up fabric of Harry’s shirt pooled at his hips. “It’s only you, you’re the only man I love.”

Harry’s lips part brokenly, mouth falling open weakly. His unfocused eyes blink heavily in some sort of twisted daze, while his body remains utterly motionless. Jesse continues to press between his thighs, but Harry hardly registers his touch at all. He feels numb. He feels void. He feels hollow.

_i can’t do this anymore…_

“Please, I love you babe…I love you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Jesse is holding Harry’s limp hands, bringing them up to his lips tenderly, trying so hard to say all the right things, to give all the right affections, to somehow win Harry over. He gazes up at Harry’s emotionless face, begging him to look at him, to meet his eyes. “We’re okay Harry, we’re okay.”

_i don’t want to do this anymore…_

“Go…” Harry whispers eerily, it’s almost soundless, a rush of pained air tumbling from his lips. Although he has yet to move his body even an inch, silent tears begin to drop heavily from his dead eyes. 

“No, baby I’m sorry. We can fix it.” Jesse assures, squeezing Harry’s fingers in comfort. “We’ll be fine, we’ll fix it. It’s okay.”

Harry shakes his head repeatedly, heavy tears dripping in weighty droplets from his eyes, teeth gritted. “No. Go.” He says it with more force this time, harshly yanking his hands away from Jesse’s grasp and moving to stand up. “It’s over.”

“But I love you—”

“You don’t love me.” Harry contests instantly, whipping around to glare at Jesse. “No one who loves me would ever treat me like this.”

“We can fix this, Harry! We can! I won’t do it again! I promise!” Jesse keeps trying, attempting to hold on to Harry as he stands to his feet. “I want to marry you! Don’t give up on us!”

“You already gave up on us. You ruined any chance we ever had at marriage when you stuck your wandering dick in someone else.” Harry bites harshly, pushing him off and standing to his feet suddenly.

Jesse drops his hands to his sides as though he’s just been singed, the heat of Harry’s words lingering in the air around them. Harry turns on his heel, storming across the bedroom to the walk-in closet as Jesse scrambles pathetically from his knees.

“Harry? Harry, what are you doing?” Jesse worries in an ever-growing frantic voice, following him blindly to the walk-in closet. “Harry?”

Harry doesn’t bother to answer him, instead focused on filling his arms with as many garments of Jesse’s as possible. Yanking shirts and suits from their previously organized racks, grabbing anything and everything of his fiancé’s that he sees.

“Harry? Just talk to me please…” Jesse stands by the closet doorway. “What are you doing?”

Arms full of garments and suits alike, Harry storms past Jesse as he walks right out of the room and proceeds determinedly down the hall. He stops right in front of the stairs, casting the heap of hangers ceremoniously over the banister and watching them fall and crumble down to the first floor.

“Harry!” Jesse shouts helplessly, watching on as Harry turns around to face him. “Please!”

“Get the fuck out of my house.” Harry grits roughly, glaring at Jesse with only ice. “I don’t care where the hell you go or what you do to get there, but I never want to see you again.”

Jesse stands stunned, head shaking wildly, but his body doesn’t move at all. He looks absolutely terrified by the look of unmovable stone in Harry’s gaze.

“Get out! Get out! GET OUT!” Harry screams furiously when Jesse only stands looking at him in shock. The house is under Harry’s name, he bought it himself when they first moved back to Seattle. They were originally going to buy it together, but for whatever reason they didn’t—Jesse making up one of his typical bullshit excuses that Harry glazed over stupidly, repeatedly telling himself it was no big deal. But maybe it was providence after all, because Harry works his whole ass off to pay the mortgage on this house by himself and since they aren’t married, Jesse has absolutely no right to it. Not one single reason to stay here any longer. “Get the fuck out of my house or I swear to god, I’ll drag your sorry ass out!”

Harry can’t take this anymore, he can’t take the bullshit, and neither should he have to. He owes himself more than this. He has been bending over backwards to try and make things work. Fit a mold that wasn’t cut out for him and in the process Harry lost himself. He lost little bits and pieces trying to fit into the perfect projection of his life. A cardboard cutout that in no way resembles his reality. And what’s worse, he isn’t even happy. He kept telling himself over and over again that he was in love with Jesse, that they were in love with each other—perfect for each other. Saying it so many times in his mind, he gradually mistook it for truth. But somewhere amidst all those mendacities, the real truth was lost and sadly, so was Harry.

“N-No… I’m not n-no…no…” Jesse protests timidly, voice weak and wavering. “I’m not l-leaving…n-no…”

Harry clenches his fists, jaw tense as he roughly brushes past Jesse back into their bedroom. He goes straight for the bed, immediately setting about finishing tearing the sheets and bedspread from the mattress. He bundles all the bedding up in his arms and marches out of the bedroom and straight down the stairs.  

Jesse follows after him, tears in his eyes. “Harry—no,  _please._ I love you, I do...I love you!” He pleads incessantly. “I was j-jealous and I…I was stupid a-and I don’t know what happened—I thought I was l-losing you and—”

“Get. Out. Of. My. House. NOW!” Harry roars angrily, swinging the front door open and throwing the sheets outside to fall on the wet front porch steps. 

Jesse is crying, full on crying. Heavy tears pouring from his eyes with shaking shoulders and a horribly runny nose.  But Harry doesn’t feel the slightest bit sorry, all he feels is all consuming anger.

Harry blinks at Jesse several times unapologetically, before he crosses the spans between them and scoops up a bunch of disheveled clothes from the wood floor, shoving them into Jesse’s arms roughly. He then proceeds to forcibly push Jesse right out of the house.

Jesse is sobbing and promising a whole host of assurances and apologies, but Harry hears nothing but static and bullshit. He doesn’t want to hear it and he refuses to listen. They reach the front door and Harry swings it open again, wasting not a single second in shoving Jesse outside in the rain.

“Harry…” Jesse begs in a sad hopeless whimper, the sound of his voice barely audible. He stands outside on the wet porch in just boxers, surrounded by a pile of soaked linens. Jesse weakly drops the crumbled clothes in his arms and feebly tries to reach out for Harry again. “…I love you…”

Harry looks at him in disgust, backing into the house and away from Jesse’s arms. He yanks his engagement ring off his finger and throws it in Jesse’s face. “Fuck you.”

Jesse shakes his head piteously, waterworks starting up again as his body trembles. “No, no n—”

Harry doesn’t even want to entertain his sight anymore and swiftly slams the door closed in Jesse’s pathetic face. He holds his hands to the door for a moment and he can still see Jesse crying in the oval window of the doorway.

Harry weakly slides down against the closed door as the furious spikes of adrenaline wear off, hearing his now ex-fiancé screaming at him from the other side, pounding against the door. He pulls his knees up to his chest and tries not to fall apart, rocking himself in slow closed off motions, willing himself to stay together. 

“Harry! Harry! You don’t mean it!”

Harry buries his face in his knees, arms wrapped tightly to his own frame as he sobs into the material of his jeans. It hurts, everything hurts so badly and Harry feels like he is losing his mind. The betrayal of it all hitting his already emotional state of being like an oncoming truck. He really spent hours agonizing over Jesse’s feelings, over his wellbeing and all the while he was out fucking strangers without a care in the world. How could he be so blind? So naïve to it all?

“Harry! I love you! Harry!”

He can’t do this. He can’t stay here and listen to this all night. He never wants to see Jesse again, let alone hear his cries and screams ringing in his ears. He can’t deal with this right now. Not on top of everything else.

“Please Harry! Please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

Harry harshly wipes his face with his shirt sleeve, leaving his skin stinging and red. He forces himself up to his feet, taking a deep breath before he gathers his keys, phone and wallet and walks through the house to the garage. He hops in his car, presses the garage opener button and starts the engine. As he backs out, Harry sees Jesse staring at him in the rain and all Harry thinks is that he needs to change the locks tomorrow.

He is so fucking serious about never wanting to see him again.  

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4WgHagvp5LA&index=7&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvHsoeXMkoExM-HzsVpaaTm)

Harry feels a lot of things right now, ranging emotions on the rise. But in an odd sense he feels a strange sense of something he wouldn’t expect to feel at a time like this. Something out of place, but somehow understood.

_relief._

It’s the strangest revelation. Harry finds out his fiancé has been cheating on him and in some way he feels a slight sense of relief, of _freedom_.

It hurts, god of course it hurts. The unforgiving sting of betrayal singes his heart like being cruelly branded against his flesh and he feels so stupid for even caring about Jesse’s feelings when he obviously never gave a shit about his.

But if Harry is going to be honest with himself, which he rarely is, he knows that Jesse was always a temporary fix. A way to fill the void, the hole that’s been in his heart since the night he stupidly left Louis’ doorstep. 

He told himself that Jesse could make him happy and be there for Avery and give her the other parent figure she so desperately needed. He made himself believe that they would be a happy little, picture perfect family. He wanted that happily ever after notion so badly that he overlooked so many key flaws, major incompatibilities and repeated inconsistencies. Harry glossed over reality simply because Jesse was there. Because Jesse said that he loved him. They may have come close to love at one point, but truly Harry only loved the idea of Jesse. He was never _the one_. 

But Harry was so hell-bent on proving to himself that he was ok, that he was finally happy and that he could move on from the past. The past with Gemma, the past with Louis, all of it. Harry just wanted to leave it all behind. And because of that, he made so many excuses for the stagnant state of his relationship with his fiancé. Harry isn’t dumb, neither is he stupid nor blind. He knew Jesse could never fill that hole in his heart, he could never replace all that Louis was and still is to him; all the layers of deep-rooted connection they share. 

But he tried, Harry really tried.

And through every step, Harry didn’t understand why the reoccurring thought of Louis always made him smile instantly. Or why seeing him still made his heart skip beats after all these years. Why the world around him is always so chaotic and ugly, but around Louis all he ever feels is peace. Why Louis’ mood changes his own mood, chained to riding the highs and lows of Louis’ emotions as if they were his own. How he could be so intertwined with him, so much so that understanding Louis is almost easier than understanding himself at times.

Harry didn’t understand how he could keep running from something, from _someone_ and somehow keep getting thrown right back to the same place. Or maybe…deep down he did always understand and that’s why he kept running.

He’s running, always running, jumping from place to place, person to person. Pretending he’s ok, pretending everything is fine, pretending to live his life at ease. Harry can run and run and _run,_ but the second he meets Louis’ eyes it all catches up to him in an instant. He can’t hide from anything, it’s all there, out in the open. 

_obvious. exposed. raw._

The only person on earth Harry can’t seem to outrun is Louis. And that’s what scares him the most.

Yet, Harry keeps running back to him, time and time again, as if magnetically drawn to him through forces he can neither understand nor control. Even now, as Harry blindly drives down the suburban streets of Seattle, he finds his car steering towards a distantly familiar neighborhood. And soon, hardly registering how he got there, Harry finds himself standing on a doorstep he hasn’t seen in ages. The last time he was here, he’d been looking out of a cab window watching Louis get smaller and smaller as he drove away.

Louis hasn’t forgiven him for that, Harry knows he hasn’t. And frankly, Harry doesn’t blame him. It was cruel and it was heartless and he wakes up with regret laced through his thoughts every single day. Leaving that night was the biggest mistake of his life and up until recently Harry has been too prideful to openly admit that, even to himself.

But although he realizes that now, the damage has already been done. Louis made it very clear that he essentially hates Harry. The only reason Louis really tolerates him at this point is for Avery’s sake alone.

Harry fucked up. His underlying feelings for Louis have been alive and well since he first fell into his arms on that bench nine years ago. And like everything else, he fucked it up. The easy way out has been to blame the situation, blame Gemma’s death and blame the pain that was birthed from it. But at some point Harry has got to hold himself accountable for the shit he’s done no matter how much it hurts to do so.

And furthermore, he can’t just hop from one relationship to another. Yes, he may have very strong and very real feelings for Louis, but he can’t just spring them on him out of the blue, it would sound ridiculous. “ _Oh, hey just stopping by for the first time in nearly a decade to say my fiancé cheated on me, but on the brightside I think I’ve always been in love with you.”_ How utterly fucked up does that sound?

_so why am i here? why the fuck am i here?_

Completely soaked, hair drenched over his features, Harry’s hand hovers over the doorbell. He stares at the small button, considering all the implications and possible outcomes of what he is about to do—

_what am i about to do?_

Frankly, Harry still doesn’t quite know what his intentions are standing on this familiar doorstop, but before he can try to sort it out, he throws out all his inhibitions and boldly presses down on the ringer.

A dog barks almost instantly at the sound of the bell ringing and Harry can’t help but smile a bit because he hasn’t seen Benedict in what feels like forever and just hearing his bumbling bark warms his heart impossibly. He loved that blundering goof of a dog.

“Alright, Benny! Alright!” Louis calls from inside the house after a few minutes of persistent barking. “Calm down, boy. I got it.”

Louis unlocks the door, creaking it open, mouth parting slightly in surprise as he registers who is on his doorstep. “Harry? What are you doing here—you’re all wet.” He reaches out suddenly to pull Harry inside before he can even answer.

“You still live here...” Harry breathes out, almost in awe as he briefly glances about the foyer of the house. It all feels so familiar and welcoming, truly like what coming home feels like. A warmth spreads through his chest, radiating over his whole body and in this moment, that familiar peace rushes over him stronger than before.

Overly excited paws jump up and eagerly press against his thighs, jolting Harry back to the present. Benedict hikes up on his hind legs, bounding up and down to greet him as if not a day has passed, as if he always expected Harry to come back home. “Hi buddy! It’s good to see you! Aww, I missed you too, Benedict!”

“Well, of course I still live here, it’s my house.” Louis responds obviously before turning his attention to the suddenly hyperactive dog. “Benny! Down!” 

Harry sinks down to the floor to properly hug the eager dog around his soft fluffy neck. He let’s out a happy little laugh when Benedict sweetly licks his face affectionately. He’s always been such a softie and now that he’s older, the dog has only gotten sweeter.

“Huh, well he certainly still loves you.” Louis notes with a small grin, stepping back to let Harry play around with what once was their dog. “He doesn’t like many people, you know? He’s so finicky, especially since he’s gotten older.”

“That’s a good boy, Benedict.” Harry coos warmly, with his cheek pressed against Benedict’s speckled fur, rubbing his back. “You’re still a sweetheart.” 

“Is…um is everything alright? Is Avery ok?” Louis worries as Harry returns back to his normal standing height. “The charge nurse didn’t page me—she was fine when I left—” 

“No Louis, she’s...” Harry casts his head down for a moment, feeling that heavy feeling return to his heart once more. He can never escape it for too long. Slowly he forces himself to lift his gaze back up to Louis’ concerned eyes. “She’s the same…but um...I…”

Louis looks at him, _really_ looks at him, in a way that only Louis can. And from the expression of his face, he must be able to tell that Harry’s been crying. How can he not after all? Harry looks like absolute shit. He can’t even pretend to hide it at this point. Even though his whole body is wet, the water around his eyes didn’t all come from the rain and somehow he can’t hide that. The obvious red rings and irritated tear ducts and puffy nose, all point to only one thing.

Louis tilts his head softly to the side, deep concern bathing his expression. “Hey…what’s wrong, H? Are you ok?”

The sound of Louis calling him only by his first initial, the gentle rasp of his delicate voice, tugs at Harry’s heart, leaving him only wanting to bask in it. How Louis packs so much tenderness and compelling empathy within the confines of a single letter is beyond Harry’s understanding.

“Harry.” Louis calls his name softly, not as a question more of a reminder that he’s right here. That he won’t push, but he is ready to listen if Harry is ready to share. But Harry doesn’t know if he is ready to share. He doesn’t know much of anything right now. All he knows is that of all the places he could have gone in Seattle at this hour, the bars, the clubs or even back to the hospital, his heart somehow guided him here.

Because regardless of all that has happened between them, Harry still feels a sense of safety being here, being with Louis. And it’s not the house. Harry knows it’s not the walls of this warm, familiar house that draws up such a safeguarding presence. It’s _him_.

It’s Louis.

“Do you wanna…maybe—get out of here?” Harry asks suddenly, avoiding Louis’ questions. He knows how odd it must all be, him showing up at 11:49 at night on Louis’ doorstep asking him to just up and go. But he has this compelling urge to just get away, to go somewhere where he can breathe, and he doesn’t want to go alone. For once he doesn’t want to go alone.

Harry pushes his floppy damp hair from his face and meets Louis’ eyes seriously. “Go somewhere? With…with me...um—I don’t know…”

Louis frowns in bewilderment, but he doesn’t express any form of rejection or denial of the offer. “What? Now?”

Harry simply nods his head half-heartedly, hardly trying to convince Louis of anything. In all honesty, Harry is more prepared for Louis to kick him out on his ass than anything else. It would be understandable; Louis doesn’t owe Harry anything.

“And where are we going to go?” Louis wonders, blinking up at him.

Harry thinks for a moment, not expecting Louis to entertain the idea. Where can they even go at this time of night? Somewhere not too far, but still eluding to an escape. Harry obviously didn’t think any of this through, that’s what he gets for acting on impulses. But suddenly he remembers a place, a place he has never once forgotten, a place he would only ever go to with the man standing before him.

“Somewhere only we know.”


	11. eleven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter youtube [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvbbuwzC9CvQZ6zo1XOnS8r)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello loves! i hope you all had a lovely week!
> 
> so this is not the longest of chapters, but its definitely not the lightest either :( but please remember that I love you all and you are always welcome to come scream at me on [tumblr](http://avocadolouie.tumblr.com) or fight me in the streets or idk...kick my sad ass
> 
> love lex .x

_held together just enough to function._

||☤||

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1cGFY-bNdU&t=0s&index=2&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvbbuwzC9CvQZ6zo1XOnS8r)

Louis hasn’t been up here in years, for he dared not venture where his own doomed ghosts roam freely, where tormenting memories lurk and linger in the very air, hiding under every rock, prowling behind every tree. Instead he’s spent the last nine years pretending that this old pathway, his feet find achingly familiar, doesn’t exist, that its winding dirt trail doesn’t lead anywhere of significance and it was all a figment of his tortured imagination. But the closer they get to the top, the more Louis realizes that is so very far from the truth, as an unceasing stream of memories from the many journeys up here flood his mind.

And it’s almost like he can see them, the phantom shadows of their younger selves looming along the forest floor that leads up to their once treasured meadow.

Louis looks to the right and all he can see is the two of them taking Benny on long walks that so very often turned into unexpected runs, Harry always tripping over the exact same stump in the narrow road without fail, no matter how many times Louis warned him about it.

_ghosts._

He tears his gaze away, reframing his mind only to see reminders of him and Harry lying flat on their backs on the soft grass, echoes of the morning light peeking through the clouds as they would talk for hours upon hours at a time, somehow never bored of all the nothing they were doing.

 _more ghosts_.

Louis closes his eyes against his own haunted reframe, but it doesn’t stop the memories from leaking through. He opens them to see eerie figures of himself reading to Harry, resting his head against his chest until Harry would find some reason to interrupt him. Only ever interested in discovering new ways to get Louis to laugh, saying the most ridiculous and absurd things until Louis couldn’t possibly hold it in any longer. They’d always end up gasping for air among their shared laughter, finding a rare happiness in each other’s eyes.

_ghosts, everywhere i look, ghosts appear_

Of all the things he could have possibly agreed to, Louis can’t believe that he even entertained the idea of this impromptu adventure to his own personal hell. What on earth possessed him to say yes to coming up here again? It’s midnight, it’s fucking freezing, and everything about this place only reminds him, in the cruelest of ways, what it felt like to fall in love.

Louis shakes his head, attempting yet again to rid himself of the memories, at least somewhat. He stuffs his hands down into the pockets of his hoodie and instead focuses his attention on the pace of his feet next to Harry’s. Their synched footsteps trudge along the muddy trail, climbing through the meandering woods in oddly comfortable silence until they reach the distant, but altogether familiar clearing.

The earlier rain has stopped and the night sky is clear and crisp with a steady breeze. It’s just as beautiful as it ever was, the skyline stretching out infinitely all around them. Stars gleam and dance brightly up above, uninhibited by the faint illumination of the distant city lights. And the dewy grass of the rolling meadow glistens under the glow of the moon.

“Wow…” Harry breathes out after several beats of silent awe. “It hasn’t changed a bit in all these years…” 

Louis nods slowly in agreement, sighing a little at the breathtaking view. And despite his raw feelings of despondency towards the past, there’s something still so overpowering and almost magical about this place that compels Louis to want to forget all his problems on the spot. “Incredible.”

Harry crosses his arms over his own chest and turns slightly to throw Louis a small crooked smile. “Seattle’s best keep secret.” 

Louis grins reminiscently, gaze falling down to his muddied shoes. “Yeah…”

Harry strolls a little further to the center of the vast field, plopping himself down on the gentle grass. He lays back and spreads his limbs out, looking up at Louis. He pats the damp ground, motioning for Louis to join him. “It’s nice down here.”

Louis eyes Harry for a moment in consideration, thinking better of this, but slowly lowering himself down to lie next to him in the grass anyway. They lay side by side, close, but not touching, staring up at the stars silently. 

“I can’t believe I almost forgot how gorgeous it is up here.” Harry awes, after a few minutes have passed. “It’s almost better at night.”

“It’s beautiful, yeah...” Louis agrees quietly, completely taken aback by the view himself. It’s really such a shame that he hasn’t come up here in all this time. A place like this is too rare a gem to leave behind.

“Mmm...” Harry hums softly, sighing to himself in the stillness of the moment.

Louis quietly turns on his side to face Harry, watching on as silent tears trickle down his smooth cheekbones, bathed in moonlight. Harry showed up to Louis’ doorstep with so much pain held behind his eyes, matched by his unshed tears. He looked hopelessly defeated and so terribly sad, and that same expression hasn’t left his face as he lies before Louis now. Louis wants to ask Harry what’s wrong, but honestly a better question might be, what _isn’t_? His daughter is unconscious in the hospital with an inoperable brain tumor for fucks sake. What isn’t wrong right now?

The tears gradually grow heavier, remaining quiet as they flow down Harry’s face and Louis so desperately wants to reach over and carefully brush each and every one away, but he somehow restrains himself.

“Ugh… _god_.” Harry sniffles, swiping at his eyes as though he’s embarrassed himself with his own tears. He lets out a little awkward wet chuckle, using the sleeve of his jacket to dry his face. “I’m sorry—I feel like I’ve cried a million times in front of you…I’m probably crying more than I’m not.”

Louis opens his mouth to refute Harry’s claim, but Harry tilts his head to the side to meet Louis’ eyes in teary consideration, eyelashes still heavy with saltwater, and Louis loses his entire train of thought in an instant.

“And, you know I’ve never, not once, seen you cry…” Harry whispers in a mix of awe and bewilderment. “I don’t know what it is exactly...what happened to you…but…I remember when you told me how you lost someone in the past that you couldn’t talk about…I know you must have been through something horrible, but yet…you’re still always so… _strong_.”

Louis frowns marginally at that as he rolls back against the grass to face the sky again. In all the time that has passed since it happened, Louis has never fully opened up to a single soul about it, keeping everything resolutely locked within himself. Not because he doesn’t remember what happened, but because Louis isn’t quite sure how he will react to delving that deeply into his memory, uncovering things he hasn’t dared bring up in ages. And honestly, he doesn’t really want to find out.

But Harry is well— _Harry_ and if Louis is going to tell anyone, it still would only ever be him. What does he really stand to lose at this point?

_myself…i stand to lose myself…_

“I was seventeen…” Louis starts slowly, not sure how far or how detailed his mind is willing to take this. These words haven’t ever left his mouth, he’s never properly told this story to anyone, not even to Niall, Liam, and Zayn. He’s eluded to it, sure, grazed over the true details in neutrality, but never has he spoken of it in detail from start to finish, never has he shared the full extent as he remembers it. And it’s already hard, his mouth drying up before he’s even finished a single sentence.

“You don’t have to tell me, Lou.” Harry murmurs softly, he slips his closest hand into Louis’ for reassurance. “You don’t have to talk about it, it’s ok.”

_don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry_

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand, inhaling deep and audibly from his core as he closes his eyes. He feels it already, he feels the awful cinch around his heart, like a noose around his throat constricting him from taking another breath. He can feel his own pulse thumping erratically in his ears and it feels a lot like panic, too much like dread. Harry is right, he could stop, he could hold it back, hold it in, push it out and far away, but what good would that really do when it’s already at the forefront of his mind.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-E0gFFnvTTY&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvbbuwzC9CvQZ6zo1XOnS8r&index=2)

“I was seventeen and my mum had asked me to run to the store.” Louis finishes quietly, looking right into Harry’s eyes and finding it a little easier to speak if he focuses solely on him. “And it was so casual, you know? Something I did all the time—running errands for her when she was tied up tending to my four little sisters. I never minded, I loved to help her out wherever I could, so when she asked me to go the store, I went.”

Louis voice is low, sounding uncertain and uneasy even to his own ears, but he forces himself to continue on anyway. “The list was eggs, milk, apples, cereal, bread, bananas, orange juice and animal crackers for the twins—I still remember because she asked me to repeat it to her several times because I was known to be a forgetful kid sometimes, only because my mind was always on the next thing. I suppose I could have written it down or something, but I was also a smartass.” Louis smiles faintly, remembering just how rambunctious and high-spirited he was as a kid. “I remember the sun was just going down and I road my bike to the store a few kilos from my house. It was a normal, casual thing I did all the time, there was nothing strange or out of the ordinary about it…but…even though it was normal and ordinary…when I left my house that night, it was the last time I ever saw my family alive.”

And just saying that much, just bringing those fated words to light after so many years, nearly takes Louis out. His body starts to shiver, radiating from his hands throughout the rest of his frame and Louis struggles to mitigate his rising emotions. Harry holds Louis’ hand even tighter, and Louis, in turn, holds on to the expressive green of Harry’s eyes, relying on the pacifying fortitude his presence always provides.

“It was a gas leak. One of those things you always hear scary, cautionary warnings about all the time, but you never actually picture it happening to you, because honestly what are the odds of that?” Louis laughs without any humor, a dry crackle in his constricted throat. “I know the odds of it actually, because when I replay what happened in my head, the figures keep popping up like little taunting reminders of how fucked up it is. There is a 1 in 2 million chance that you’ll die from a gas related explosion. The number is so small it takes, like, seven zeroes to write it out. For every 2 million people on this earth, only one person is predicted to die from that and yet I know five people who did.”

“And if there’s a leak in a house, all it really only takes is the smallest thing to set it off, like flipping a light switch or unplugging something or even using a wired phone. They couldn’t have known in time...” Louis explains, remembering just how horribly unfair this is. “And so I came home to a house that was on fire. Not just on fire, but…unrecognizable. People were screaming and yelling and running about—I don’t remember it vividly, but there was smoke and sirens and so much screaming and I…I was stunned—probably in shock and I couldn’t stop myself from walking towards my house…I didn’t feel like it was actually happening, you know? It was strange, like an out of body type of thing and I probably would have walked right into my burning house if it wasn’t for a paramedic who held me back.”

“‘It’ll all be ok,’ she said…” Louis recounts in a hushed whisper, recounting the exact details of her face as if it were yesterday. “And I must not have looked ok, why would I—how could I? But she held her hands to my face and kept telling me to be strong and that it was going to be ok. ‘Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry’—that’s what she kept saying to me over and over again…” He mutters, still hearing the echo in his head, overlaid with his own voice repeating  the words to himself time and time again. “And I didn’t. I didn’t cry again. Never again. But it wasn’t ok…I wasn’t ok…”

_i’m still not ok_

And as Harry listens, tightly gripping Louis’ shaky fingers, it’s like he understands exactly what Louis doesn’t say, able to read between the silent lines. He understands that Louis doesn’t want apologies or useless sympathies, just someone to listen. Harry’s emotive eyes mirror the extent of his heartbreak, as though he feels the impact of Louis’ words on such a profound level. And really, he does. Harry does feel it, because he lived it too—he’s still living it. More tears have sprung to Harry’s eyes as he remains attentive to Louis, feeling the severity of Louis’ heart-rending agony.

“I wasn’t ok and suddenly I was at the hospital, sitting in a waiting room, just…frozen…” Louis recalls slowly, feeling a harsh, unforgiving sting building up behind his eyes. “I tried to distract myself by repeating my mother’s grocery list in my head…eggs…milk…apples…cereal…bread…bananas…orange juice…animal crackers…” His voice wavers with every item on the list and he bites down on his lower lip to keep from splitting apart right there. “I kept trying to remember what the last thing I said to them was…when the last time I told them I loved them was…but all I could think of was that grocery list...it kept my mind distracted and maybe it was self-preservation, my body’s own way of keeping me from flipping out…so I repeated it, over and over again, I repeated it…until it was the only thing left on my mind.”

“But then the doctors started to come out…and the looks on each of their faces was enough to snap me right back to reality.” Louis continues, vividly picturing it all in his head as if he’s relieving it through the eyes of his seventeen-year-old self. “The first one sat down next to me—he was treating my oldest sister and he started trying to explain what happened to her. He used words I barely understood at the time…talking about vital asphyxiation of her lungs and irreparable dermal lacerations and subcutaneous abrasions and third-degree burns and severe internal contusions and I…I mean I heard him, but it…it didn’t make any sense. He was explaining all this shit to me…and none of it made sense…”

Louis pauses for a moment, just to breathe, just to locate his center of gravity, but everything about his body feels weak and helplessly unstable. “And…it just went on like that…doctor after doctor. I wanted it to stop, but it didn’t. It was just one after the other like an assembly line. A series of events I couldn’t stop, like relieving the same nightmare over and over…” He describes brokenly, voice barely above a whisper. “I’d be sat there, gripping the waiting room chair till my nails dug through the wood and a doctor would come out and say ‘I’m so sorry’. And I’d nod and suck it in and right as I’d start to come to grips with it, another doctor would come out and shake their head at me and say it again. After awhile all I saw was their mouths moving…but I could hardly register the sound attached. It was on loop, you know? I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry… _I’m so sorry_ …”

“Oh Louis…” Harry murmurs out in an anguished rush of air, tears running down his face as he listens to him.

“I shouldn’t be alive.” Louis shakes his head weakly without any semblance of understanding. He can feel water pooling under his eyes, just waiting to spill over. “The only reason I didn’t die with them is because I wasn’t there. For some fucking reason…I wasn’t there. Because I was out getting eggs and milk and apples and fucking irrelevant shit. And I couldn’t wrap my mind around it…for the longest time I just couldn’t get my brain to understand…because…they were _there_. One minute my mum and my sisters were there, happy and beautiful and  _alive_ —of course things weren’t always perfect, what family is perfect, anyway? But we had each other and we loved each other and…a-and they were there…” Louis whispers dolefully, on the very cusp of breaking down into a mess of tears. “Then they just…weren’t. They suddenly weren’t there anymore and I was all alone feeling the phantom limbs of my family all around me.”

“And I’m not telling you this now to get pity out of you, I’m telling you because I want you to know that I get it...I really do...I know exactly what you’re going through.” Louis utters, looking up at the open sky again as his voice cracks in all kinds of places. “I’ve never told that whole story to anyone because I hate the look people give when they find out that you’ve lost someone that you love—it forces me to acknowledge it and I’m not very good at that…but I…I think I need to embrace my feelings…my grief…stop hiding and pretending to be strong when I’m not—I accused you of running from your problems when I do the same thing…” His breathing falls shallow, becoming harder and harder to keep whatever he has left inside together. “I don’t not cry because I’m strong… I do it because I know I can’t h-handle it…”

Louis turns his head back towards Harry, both lying on their sides in the grass as they gaze at each other. He wants to continue to fight against his inevitable tears, he wants to push them back in and make them go away because he knows if he allows himself to feel it, there will be no coming back. He will crash and he will burn and any notions of functioning or breathing will be all but lost.

But looking at Harry he can’t. Louis can’t possibly hold it in anymore, not when it’s practically seeping out of his pores. There’s parts of himself that Louis purposefully keeps locked up, a chain stringently wound around his broken heart, spiked with barbed wire and cautionary forewarnings. But without fail, Harry ignores all of that, he defies the logic and parameters that Louis has safeguarded for his own sanity. And when he looks at Louis, it’s like Louis is hopelessly compelled to roll out the welcome mat, offering whatever remains of his heart on a silver platter.

The heavy tears that have brimmed under his eyes, that have been burning and fighting with Louis this entire time, finally break through, trickling down his cheeks in silent waves.

He hasn’t cried in so long, god knows he hasn’t. He hasn’t felt the hot sting of saltwater rimming his eyes in decades. Louis has told himself not to cry till he was blue in the face, acting like if he could reign in control over his emotions then he could keep control of his life. But it’s not true, it’s so, so far from the truth because all this time he’s been building up a dam of bottled-up emotion, threatening to burst at any moment. And now he’s helpless to the inevitable break.

“When I became a doctor people stopped seeing me as me…they started to see me as this untouchable god…like I’m bigger than I am, like I can do anything and save anyone and…and that made it easier sometimes because it made me start to really feel bigger than I actually am—like I have all this control over my life. But I don’t, Harry I d-don’t…” Louis cries, the vulnerable wetness on his cheeks feeling so unfamiliar. It’s been so long, he had sometimes wondered if he still possessed the ability to shed tears anymore. “I’m not s-strong like people think, I’m just good at hiding the ugliest parts. I can fake it…I can force a smile I don’t actually have and I can say all the right things and get by, but then I…I get so lost in it all and I completely lose myself sometimes…but you never looked at me like that…not once. And the only time I feel...I don’t know, like me again is when you look at me. You see me—you really s-see me, not as the hotshot neurosurgeon I’m made out to be b-but…as _me_.” Louis’ words come out on a hushed exhale, curtained behind a veil of newfound, ever-falling tears.

Harry’s mouth parts slowly while his eyes shine with the emotion lining his entire expression and he wastes not a single moment in untangling his hand from Louis’ in favor of wrapping both of his arms around Louis’ body, pulling him in as close as possible.

And there is something to be said about being held like this, close like this, intimate in proximity, strong and comforting. The welcome, cathartically warm feel of human contact, a heart beating against his own skin, two pairs of lungs aligned, chest to chest, it makes it easier to let go somehow, to relinquish the reigns of control that he never lets slip from his grasp. And with his head burrowed against the material of Harry’s shirt, Louis breaks in a way he never has, lost yet found in the security of Harry’s resilient embrace.

“I see you...” Harry whispers indisputably after a few quiet moments of holding Louis, like it’s his whole life’s testimony, like the only prayer he’s ever said, the one thing he believes in and holds true. “I still see you, Louis. I do. I promise I do. But you’re wrong. You _are_ strong. You’re so very strong. I see you...”

Louis cries even harder, entire body shaking as he continues to drown in the countless suppressed feelings raging out of him at once. The cracks, the many, many cracks of Louis’ porcelain skin can only hold back so much. Only hold back so much stifled hurt and grievous heartbreak before he shatters like tragically broken glass. Before the last bandages and frail threads holding his fragile pieces together, rip from their seams and the floodgates open.

It’s years.

Years of suffocated emotion, years of undisclosed feelings and guarded reactions. Years of telling himself not to cry, not to react. Years of denial, years of avoidance, evasion, and calculated circumvention of reality.  

And now it’s all pouring out at once. It’s pouring out in mighty rivers rather than gradual trickles or calm streams. It’s pouring out of every part of his aching soul, all the pent up grief he never properly mourned. The grief he carries for the loss of his entire family, his beloved mother and beautiful sisters. The grief he carries for the loss of Gemma, his dear friend, the grief of losing Harry, the love of his life, the grief of losing Avery, his sweet, precious baby. There is far too much grief to be mourned in his life and Louis is absolutely powerless to stop the effects he’s avoided for so long.

So he gives in. He gives in, and completely let’s go, just this once. Just letting himself be held by unfailing, familiar arms, letting himself be soothed by Harry’s touch, as Louis has similarly soothed him so many times. But it still hurts. More than the infliction of a physical pain or a somatic ailment, no, it’s so much deeper than that. A pain coursing richly through the very essence of his being; flowing so strong that it’s hard to tell where his pain stops and Louis really begins.

Louis sobs harder and harder and _harder_ still, but Harry holds him through it all, unshakable arms locked around him as he entire system breaks down. “You’re strong, Lou. You are strong, you’re strong, you’re strong.” Harry whispers continuously like the abiding lighthouse to Louis’ harsh tempest. His arms are wrapped so tightly around Louis’ body, legs tangled together in the dewy grass, holding him as he braves the mighty waves of his internal storm, facing things he hasn’t so much as glanced at, for the first time in years. “God, you’re so strong, Louis.  _I see you_.”

Fuck, and he’s ugly crying now, runny uncontrollable hiccups matched with stuttered sobs wretched out from deep down within Louis’ chest. And maybe that should be embarrassing, maybe there should be a level of indignity in all this, but there’s not. There never would be. Never with Harry.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UdVH8FnG2sQ&index=3&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvbbuwzC9CvQZ6zo1XOnS8r)

Harry pulls back marginally, only enough to look into Louis’ teary eyes. He gently reaches between them and cradles Louis’ wet face in his hands. As his tender fingers try their best to caress the ceaseless tears away, Harry gazes at Louis with the softest expression laden in his eyes, earnest and true. And somehow, despite his own pain, Harry’s own heart seems to break that much more for Louis, reaching out to him, like he really does see every fragmented piece of who Louis is at his core. Harry is not looking through him or down upon him in a condescending or even a patronizingly sympathetic way, but with genuine understanding and concern. His face is heavily tearstained as he seems to share the brunt weight of Louis’ shattered heart, shouldering every horrific bruise Louis has endured, as if originally inflicted on his own heart.

Harry is nothing but sweet and ever so gentle, fingers twined in Louis’ hair, nestling his head, with his other arm held steadily around Louis’ back, just trying to calm him. Louis could allow himself to imagine that this was it. Imagine that he was Harry’s and Harry was his and they were it for each other, everything for each other. It’s not even hard to pretend when Harry is holding him like nothing else matters, like no one else matters, like they are the only two people left in the world.

Harry is right in front of Louis’ face, so close,  _so_ enticingly close. His lips are but a breath away from Louis’ own and Louis wants to kiss him. More than anything, he wants to lean in, close that fraction of a gap between them, and press completely against Harry, relishing in the feel of Harry’s lips flush against his own. He wants to taste the inside of his mouth, allowing his tongue to try and figure out what’s changed, what’s stayed exactly the same since the last time, since the first time.

But he can’t. Louis can’t do any of those things that his whole body is desperately aching to do because Harry isn’t his. Harry has never been his. Even back then, when they lived together and found themselves inseparable in their unexpected life together, when they shared an ill-timed drunken kiss Louis didn’t ever want to pull back from, when Louis had fallen so helplessly in love with a boy just as broken as himself—Harry was still never truly his. And now, Harry has moved on, belonging to someone else, planning a future with someone else, someone that he has come to love in Louis’ place. Harry has a fiancé that isn’t Louis and a daughter that isn’t Louis’, he has an entire life that no longer includes Louis.

They aren’t the only two people left in the world and this, this rare moment of complete trust and reliant safety in Harry’s arms, no matter how _right_ it feels, isn’t real. None of this is real and none of this changes their reality.

And the hurtful realization stabs Louis in every single one of his unhealed wounds, twisting and turning the knife until he feels it, really feels it, so much that he can’t possibly feel anything else. Pain. Only pain. Raw and real and unwanted in every way.

A scar laid over another scar, an older scar, still cuts the same under a blade, still bleeds the same despite the time that has passed. The fresh cut may come quicker, may pierce the skin easier, but it still bleeds. It will always bleed. 

Louis deals with vast amounts of trauma every day, physical, mental, emotional, he handles it all with a practiced brave face and trained eye. And maybe being faced with the traumatic events of others on a daily basis makes it easier to avoid his own, to keep it subdued and on the backburner of his mind.

 He goes through life ignoring his pain, repressing it so far down, he can act like it’s gone, getting away with acting like it never existed. But it’s not gone. Of course it’s not. It never was and it never will be. It looks him right in the eye everyday. It presses its weight like an insufferable burden on his shoulders, pressing him down just a bit more every single day.

But, oh how fitting life is.

How fitting it is to have the person Louis is crying about also be the one to comfort him and hold him and look at him with soft, caring eyes. Harry thinks Louis is crying about his loss, the loss of everything he held dear and he was at first and in a way he still is. But now Louis is crying about a different loss, the loss of someone who meant more to him than he ever could admit. More than he ever allowed himself to understand. He had screamed in Harry’s face that he was over it, that he was done with whatever they were, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Nothing but a cowering lie. A lie to himself and a lie to Harry.

Louis has never once been over it, not in any way, shape, or form. He’s never stopped loving Harry. He’s never stopped loving Avery. It’s nearly laughable to think that he ever could have. His feelings are just as strong and overpowering as they were nine years ago. Ever since losing his own, all he’s wanted is a family, someone and somewhere to belong to again. And he’d thought that perhaps he’d finally found one. In the midst of all he lost, all he gave up on, Louis had an unexpected family in Harry and Avery that he so desperately needed.

Louis could tell him; he could tell Harry right now. Just come right out and say it. Speak it right into existence.

_i still love you…_

He could pull Harry’s face to his own and press the hushed words with his lips, pour the cherished refrain out of his mouth in reverence. Sweet and soft, pure and true.

_i love you, nothing’s changed. i still love you…_

Or he could boldly stand up on this expansive, open hill, look out over the edge and shout his declaration out to the city below, profess it in earnest for the whole wide world to hear.

_i’m in love with you, i’m in love with you, i’m in love with you…_

But what would come next? What comes after professions of undying love and resounding declarations of devout adoration? What happens when the overwhelming fanfare of it all dies down and reality sets back in?

There is nothing simple about either them, whether together or apart, they’re both complicated and painfully complex, riddled with poorly healed wounds and battered by the countless bruises of life. And maybe Louis isn’t ready to open Pandora’s box of shitty emotional baggage and let Harry in again. And despite the way Harry is holding him and soothing him, Louis has no way of knowing where he really stands with Harry at all, he doesn’t know what’s going on inside his head or his heart. For all that he and Harry were to each other all those years ago, for all they could have been—the fact remains, stinging stronger than ever before is that they weren’t together. They were never a couple and they never had the chance to be. So what does their complicated relationship even amount to?

Nothing but heartbreak.

Harry’s hands drop down from Louis’ cheeks to wrap around his body again, enfolding around his trembling frame and pulling him closer still. Louis’ tears have far from ceased, but neither has Harry’s strong hold on him. Harry continues to whisper gently in his ear, never ever letting go, just holding him, consoling him, as Louis weeps into his neck.

No, but Louis can’t do this, he can’t keep pretending. He can’t lie here and remember the old days they shared, when they were younger, when Harry was almost his—his heart, his family, his _everything_. It hurts too much. Having Harry, this sweet, kind, and gentle version of Harry, hold him and cry with him and grieve with him, acting like he’s here, like he’ll _always_ be here, hurts _._

Because this isn’t real. Because this isn’t them—not anymore. Because after this, they’ll part ways again, they’ll go off to separate homes, to separate ideals of living. And tomorrow Harry will wake up with his fiancé curled around him and Louis will wake up alone and it fucking  _hurts_.

_don’t let me go…_

“I have to go.” Louis pulls back suddenly, swiping at his eyes harshly as he squirms free from Harry’s embrace, but it does nothing to stop his rampant tears from falling regardless. “I’ve g-got to…um…g-go…”

Harry doesn’t let him completely break free from his hold right away. “Louis, don’t go. Please…don’t...”

Harry looks so earnest and gentle, pleading eyes so filled with warmth as his thumb rubs Louis’ hand in soothing circles. And that only makes it worse.

“We a-aren’t…we…” Louis shakes his head without finishing his sentence. He forces himself free, standing to his wobbly feet. And once he’s out of Harry’s arms, it feels like there is not a single thing holding him together anymore, nothing keeping him from collapsing right back down to the ground. He feels so hallow, an emptiness caving inside of him like never before and he can hardly take the overcoming gravity of it. Before he knows it, he’s sobbing even harder, breaking even harder, feeling the last composed pieces of himself dolorously unthread.

“Lou…come here…” Harry pleads sadly with a tilted head, eyes rimmed with tears, and there is something so horribly tragic about his voice as though watching Louis fall apart right in front of him is a torturous act. He stands and tries to pull Louis back against him, reaching out to give comfort. And Louis wants him to, god, all he wants is to fall right back into Harry’s arms and bury himself in everything that is Harry. “Come here, please come here…”

_hold me…i just want you to hold me_

But Louis steps away from him regardless of what he so desperately wants to do and it takes everything outpouring out of him to do so. “No, Harry…we a-aren’t going to do t-this...”

Harry’s head moves at a loss, a loss for words or maybe a loss for what to do next. His lip starts to quiver, equally wet eyes gazing longingly at Louis like he can hardly stand watching on at a distance anymore. “Do what? Louis, what’s wrong? Talk to me, please. You’re not ok—”

“I know I’m not ok! I’m not ok because you left me!” Louis painfully sobs the horrid words out, shoulders shaking in such harrowing ways. “You l-left but the memory of you never faded a-away. I…I haven’t been up here in n-nine years, because the echoes of our voices haunt this forest. A-And I almost g-gave up my dog, b-because saying his name propels me backwards in t-time…and there is a whole r-room in my house that I don’t d-dare go in…because it’s filled with things left behind by a b-baby girl who I thought I’d never s-see again…and I h-haven’t eaten Thai food since we ate it in takeout boxes on that s-stupid impromptu picnic, the smell alone instantly makes me nauseous…and I have two hundred and thirty-four bottles of that crappy wine we always got drunk off of in my b-basement…because I buy it e-every single time it’s on sale…but…b-but then I can never bring myself to d-drink it without y-you. The absence of you is e-everywhere I look….and my m-mind was so desperate to see you that…that I’d hallucinate h-hearing your laugh or your v-voice and…I’d h-hear my Aves in every single baby that cried around every corner, behind every closed door—it was _you_ …always y-you…and I…I kept thinking maybe you were b-back—back for me…maybe y-you...” Louis’ voice fades away almost entirely, shaking his head as he scrubs his hand over his face, more tears falling from his eyes. “ _God_ …but n-now you’re right here…right in front of m-me…holding me and I…I…”

Louis feels so overwhelmed—distressed and overcome by inconsolable amounts of anguished heartache as his wretched sobs subdue his broken speech. All he wants is to allow his weak knees to buckle and let his exhausted body crumple down to the grass. And feeling all that he’s feeling, at the magnitude he’s feeling it, Louis probably would have done just that, tumbling right back to the earth’s floor with no promise of ever getting back up. But then Harry closes the last lingering amounts of distance between them, encircling Louis once again in his arms before he collapses.

“I’m…here…I’m right here…” Harry breathes out tearfully, not letting Louis go, instead enveloping him further into his arms. The strongest parts of Louis allow himself to fold into Harry’s embrace, relishing in the needed comfort it provides, until he just can’t take it anymore and the weakest parts force him to pull back.

“But it still _hurts_ …” Louis whispers near Harry’s lips, mouths ghosting over each other. “You’re here…but you have a whole other life apart from me, w-without me…and it h-hurts...” He closes his eyes for a long moment, exhaling a shaky breath. “I let you in once and I made myself deal with you leaving, I made myself move on as best I could—but you leaving a-again...I…I…can’t…”

Harry tightens his grip, fingers digging into the material of Louis’ hoodie, and without needing to look, Louis can feel Harry burning holes into Louis’ skin with the pained severity of his gaze. There is so much not being said, so many sentences being amended, words cut out before given the chance to be heard, to stand on their own.

Louis opens his eyes slowly, braving Harry’s gaze one last time. “Because you make me _fall apart._ Because no matter what you see when you look at me, I’m not strong—I’m n-not.” He breaks away from Harry’s hold, backing up on unstable, trembling legs. Louis’ whole body is aching, begging him to stop. The further he steps away from Harry’s embrace, the weaker he feels, but the more resolute he gets. “I’m not s-strong enough for this...”

Harry starts to rush toward him again, arms still held open, inviting Louis to fall back into them. His expression is clouded and uncertain as his teary eyes search Louis’ and he opens his mouth to say more. “Louis, I—”

“I can’t...” Louis practically begs out in anguish. He is _breaking_ , and needs to get as far away from this place as possible so hopefully the feeling of falling apart will go away. “Don’t Harry. Just don’t.” 

“Louis!” Harry calls, but Louis refuses to turn around. He refuses to look back. Instead he propels his feet down the beaten down path, through the calm forest as fast as his feeble legs will carry him.

And it seems as though Louis was right all along. There wasn’t much he could have lost coming up here, but in the process of finally allowing himself to be completely transparent and vulnerable, Louis lost the one thing he stood to lose.

Himself.

And the scariest part is, Louis has no idea how to salvage the calamitous shards of his fragmented soul and piece himself back together this time around.


	12. twelve.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVv2IC_wpDMOii1W7mToEayQ) for the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends! i am sooooo sorry for how late this is omg. I've had to work several extra shifts recently because my job was so short staffed this month and I've been so busy! but thank you to all of you who send messages and reminders about updating, it was definitely a motivation i needed haha. i love you all, hopefully there won't be a long wait next time :))
> 
> love lex .x

_held together just enough to stay alive_. 

||✚||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=siOUpztEUiM&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVv2IC_wpDMOii1W7mToEayQ&index=2&t=0s)

There are only a handful of times in his life that Harry remembers being utterly speechless. The first was when he was twelve years old and he was told that he and Gemma were to be split up into separate foster care homes. Thankfully it didn’t actually pan out that way, but Harry remembers feeling a dreadfully paralyzing panic rendering him without words for hours, commandeering his whole body.

It didn’t happen again until quite a few years later when he found out his sister was terminally ill, followed by the disconsolate moment he was told of her passing, drudging up that same god-awful numbing feeling tenfold. Of course, the same happened when his daughter was initially diagnosed and again when she fell unconscious. He found himself speechless in the sense that not only was it impossible to form intelligible words, he also couldn’t form thoughts or even basic commands to get his body to function on any level. And it’s such a specific, precise feeling that he can pinpoint every single time he’s ever experienced it within his lifetime. Including tonight.

Tonight Harry was rendered speechless not by the picturesque view of the late night skyline, not by the understated majesty of the scattered stars above or how the incandescent light of the moon kissed everything it saw in a lucent, magical glow. Instead Harry was left speechless by a boy. A sweet, lovely boy more beautiful than all the dazzling stars in the sky or the lustrous moon combined, a boy with a heart bigger than anyone, a boy that Harry watched shatter into a million unrecognizable pieces right in front of him.

Harry had absolutely no idea what would happen by coming up here again, returning to this place, this beautiful, secret place that holds a myriad of lost memories for them. He had no idea what would happen when he spread himself out on the dewy grass next to Louis. But he sure as hell didn’t expect _this._

To be completely without words, held at a standstill, with a total loss for what to do next.

He hasn’t yet moved from the spot, feet cemented to the ground only staring out at the narrow opening in the thick forest where Louis disappeared through. There was not a single part of Harry’s body that didn’t want to go after Louis, _need_ to go after him. And the only thing that stopped him was the cracked lilt to Louis’ voice as he begged him not to, a horrible sound that continually reverberates against the walls of Harry’s mind. Or the way he looked—Harry can’t begin to get over the forlorn look of utter defeat in Louis’ eyes, the heart-rending distress pouring out from his teary gaze. All the agony that has lain dormant behind the clear blue of his eyes all this time, now dismally exposed.

And to watch on like a bystander, fully knowing the role he’s played, aware of all the ways he’s at fault in all this, but powerless to do a single thing to make it right, is the most damning part of it all.

Gradually, Harry settles himself back down onto the grass beneath him, finding his unsteady legs weary. He pulls his knees up to his chest as he sits on the ground, locking his arms around his legs as he tries to make some sort of sense out of things. There is so much to process, but Harry doesn’t know where to begin, finding himself continually overwhelmed. Utterly stunned. His mind races with all that just happened, correlating key snippets of past conversations with Louis along with flashes of old, distant memories. And overlapped with the current series of events, a bigger picture comes into focus and more and more begins to make sense. If there is one person that he has always understood, it’s Louis. But after tonight, Harry knows that he has never understood Louis as much as he does right now.

Louis just showed every single bruise littering his skin and bared every scar that he carries to Harry. It damn near tore Louis in two, but somehow he did it and even as he cracked and broke, he was still nothing but a tower of unending strength in Harry’s eyes. And Harry’s heart can do nothing but tragically break for him.  

There are so many complex and confounding pieces that make up the astounding person Louis has become. Somehow, by some unworldly, unpredicted miracle, Louis—beaten down, tragic, abandoned _Louis—_ is still an optimist. Despite the devastating pain he carries from day to day, hidden deep down inside him and despite the numerous accounts of grief he’s sustained, the constant heartache he endures, he is still moving forward, he is still breathing, still _trying_.

Trying to make a difference, trying to better the lives of others, trying to make the world a better place. Further proving that his mere existence is a miracle in that of itself. He radiates hope, he embodies faith, he exemplifies courage. Harry doesn’t know where Louis finds the strength to keep going, let alone persist in a world seemingly rigged against him. But through it all, Louis fights. Everyday he fights and he takes chances and risks all to help others. Louis continues to save lives and do all he can just to not watch someone else go through what he went through: _loss_.

Unbelievable, profound loss.

And that’s why Harry’s heart can only break further still, because Louis doesn’t even see how extraordinarily strong he really is, how impossibly _brave_. His life is a testament, an inspiration. Harry can’t fathom how, in light of his own loss, Louis ever summoned up the strength to go through the rigors of medical training, being repeatedly faced and involved with tragedies and traumas and deaths, but his dedication to the lives of others is astoundingly courageous and heroic.

And it really just goes to show that you never really know what someone else has gone through, what they are _still_ going through. You never know what scars lie hidden under shiny reflective masks, what reminders are keeping someone from taking in full, confident breaths into their lungs. Instead living by breathing in one, weak and strangled breath at a time. With a broken heart that is somehow still beating, doing the best they can to keep going on.

Harry always suspected that whatever Louis had been through was terrible, but it’s terrible beyond measure, far worse than he could have ever imagined. But regardless of his own personal torment, Louis still comforted Harry. He soothed Harry when he was falling apart and cared for him when he couldn’t care for himself and he still does. Louis doesn’t have to, but he _does_.

And Harry feels _horrid_ —fuck, he feels so nauseous with shameful regret and dire remorse. He left Louis, he left him after everything, all alone with no one to care for him in return. And by leaving him, Harry took Louis’ only family away from him. Harry knows exactly what it feels like to lose his family, he knows of what that kind of pain feels like pitted in the darkest crevices of his heart and knowing that he made Louis go through that _again_ is the worst, most inconsolable realization.  

Oh, if Harry could only wind back the clock and turn back time to relive that night. If he could take back everything he said to Louis before he left, if he could somehow erase all of his selfish actions, wipe the slate clean and do it all right. He’d break down in a mess of tears and admit to Louis how truly terrified he was, of growing up, of being a father, of moving on, of _everything_. He’d tell Louis over and over again how much he needed him and how he was his only source of strength left in his life.

And then Harry would tell Louis all about how he runs. How he runs and runs and _runs_ , it’s what he does, it’s all he does. He would tell him how he doesn’t know how to move forward without running.

But now it’s been just about a decade and Harry still hasn’t stopped running. He ran from Gemma’s illness. He ran from her death. He ran from Louis, ran right into the mistakable arms of Jesse. Harry runs to avoid his guilt, to evade his pain. He runs from the past, from the piling missteps of his former self. But that’s the thing about running, everything he’s running from doesn’t go away, it doesn’t disappear magically if he squeezes his eyes shut long enough. It continues to follow him, looming over him like a dark, heavy cloud set to thunder at any given moment.

And Harry knows this, he knows that everything he’s been so desperate to escape has followed him regardless, but he never stopped to realize how much the ceaseless course his running has taken hurts the people around him.

Harry takes his time trudging back through the woods, following the winding path that leads back to Louis’ house where his car is still parked along the curb. He debates knocking on the door and checking on Louis. But it’s obvious that Louis doesn’t want to see him right now. He repeatedly begged Harry through his choked up sobs not to come after him and Harry will just have to respect that, although it kills him more than anything to do so.

Harry slides into his car, and as he sinks into the cool leather of the car seat, he realizes that he has no where to go. He can’t go back to his house, definitely not. The wounds are still too fresh and he can’t sleep in a bed that he witnessed his fiancé cheat in. There’s a guest room downstairs, but who knows if Jesse is really gone or not and Harry doesn’t have the energy nor the patience to deal with any of that right now.

He sighs heavily to himself before starting up his car, pulling out onto the street. In all honestly, there is no way he’ll get any kind of rest tonight anyway, even if he had somewhere to go, so he might as well just go back to the hospital. Harry is anxious to be back with his daughter and he just wants to sit down with Avie until hopefully things start to make sense again.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMDisovfKZo&index=2&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVv2IC_wpDMOii1W7mToEayQ)

Nurse Julie greets him as he walks slowly onto the floor, dragging his tired feet with each stride. “Harry? Back so soon? Did you get any rest?”  

Harry can only blink at her, if there is one thing he did not get, it’s rest. He feels more exhausted now than when he initially left. The shock of discovering the infidelity of his fiancé, the burden of realizing how much he affected Louis’ life after he watched him fall apart in his arms—Harry feels like death.

And knowing how awful he feels inside, Harry imagines he must look so pathetic and horrid in the nurse’s eyes, but he can’t do a single thing to hide it and he probably wouldn’t even bother if he could.

Julie’s warm expression morphs from general attentiveness to genuine worry as she gazes up at him, and suddenly Harry feels arms around him, pulling him into a hug. “You are going to be ok.” She whispers soothingly, rubbing his back. “You will get through this.”

Harry closes his eyes, letting himself decompress into the embrace, letting some of the tension roll from his shoulders. He wishes he could fully believe that were true, but after all he’s endured, it hardly seems likely. More like a wistful fairytale of an unattainable dream.

Julie pulls back, still holding on to him as she meets his eyes. “I’m gonna get you some coffee, ok?”

Harry nods appreciatively, unable to offer any words as he takes in a deep breath, but Julie seems to understand. She gives his shoulders a squeeze before turning back towards the station. Harry has to inhale slowly once more before continuing on to Avery’s room and resuming his usual position at her bedside. She looks the exact same as how he left her, still and motionless, and whether that’s a good or bad thing is confusing.

“Hi Avie, how are you, my little bug?” Harry greets with a saddened tilt to his broken smile, wishing she could answer his simple question. Her cheeks would dimple as she beamed back at him and the gold flecks in her honey colored eyes would sparkle and she’d answer him with one of those long, hardly used words like, “splendiferous” or “magnificent”, that are always printed on every cliché _good job_ sticker that she never fails to find oddly amusing. And he would laugh a bit because hearing his little second grader say “splendiferous”, through her missing baby teeth, would be the most adorable, heartwarming thing.

But of course, none of that happens and Harry settles down into the chair near her bed, sighing to himself as his exhausted body seems to groan along with the framework of the chair. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his lap as he cradles his head in his hands, scraping his fingers through his hair.

God, he needs some good news. He needs something intrinsically _good_ to happen for once, something to keep him going, keep him upright and standing when so many parts of him are dying to give up.

Harry lifts his head back up to gaze longingly at his daughter, studying her beautiful, still somnolent face. “Avery I…I know I tell you this everyday and I know you don’t have any control over what’s happening…but I…” He pauses, not even sure what he’s trying to express. All he knows is that he’s worn himself down to the bare bone and he really doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. “I don’t know what else I can promise or what I can say to change things…I just—I’m so? _Lost_ …” Harry breathes out heavily, letting his eyes flutter closed. “I’m lost and I’m terrified and…I…I _miss_ you, sweetheart. I miss you with everything my heart beats for and being without you is…”

_life is hardly worth living without you_

He bites down on his lip, attempting to keep himself from crying, but it seems to be in vain. Trying to ground himself, Harry reaches over to slip his hand into Avery’s tiny limp hand, wishing with everything left inside him that she would hold his hand back. He would settle for a flinch or a flutter, maybe a wiggle of her pinky finger or a twitch of her thumb. Anything to show some kind of sign that she’s still here with him, that he isn’t just talking to himself in this cold hospital room.

Harry holds one of his daughter’s hands between both of his, staring down at it with tears lining the rims of his eyes. He rests his head down along the bed near her, still holding her hand tightly, praying to anyone that will listen to just give him something. Harry wants it so bad that he can almost feel it, he can feel the ghost of her touch, he can almost trick his mind into registering the lightest movement of her hand in his.

Except it’s… _real_.

Startled, Harry bolts upright, heart rattling in his chest as he looks frantically with wide eyes back and forth from his daughter’s hand to her tranquil face. “A-Avery?” He stutters in disbelief, willing the slight grip on his hand to not have been a desperate hallucination. “Avie…can you…can you hear me?”

And it can’t be his imagination that causes Avery’s eyelashes to twitch ever so slightly, or make her fingertips move once more against the palm of his hand. It can’t be his mind playing tricks on him when it happens again, fingers flinching on their own. And it’s not delirium when he notices her chest rise a bit higher than usual. He’s not imagining it, he can’t be.

_wake up, wake up, wake up_

More saltwater prickles at the corners of Harry’s eyes as his heart trembles with desperate hope. He’s not even breathing anymore, he’s sure he’s not, breath held in both fear and faith as he stares intently at his daughter. Harry leans in closer to caress the side of her still face, cupping his palm softly to her cheek. “Please Munchie…come back to me, baby.”

And there’s a pause, a long, silent, stretching pause that seems to defy the laws of time and reality. Harry has never been so hinged on one single moment, afraid to move, afraid to so much as breathe. But that’s when it happens, finally after all these discouragingly teary days that haunted him into never-ending sleepless nights. The slow, unsure flit of her heavy eyelids gradually pulls at her eyes causing them to crack open ever so slightly.

“Hi…” Avery croaks, and there is hardly any sound attached at all, her voice dry from inactivity and dehydration.

Harry doesn’t know how it’s happening; he doesn’t understand how it’s possible or why she woke up right when he needed her the most, but he doesn’t even care. Because it doesn’t matter, none of it matters, because right now after so long, Avery is awake, his baby girl is finally awake.

“Oh my god...” Harry gasps outright once the initial shock has begun to pass. And as he hugs her close his tears start to fall down his cheeks, but for once they’re happy tears—overjoyed, relieved tears that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. Because of all the things Harry needed, seeing his daughter wake up was at the top of the list, because if she’s awake then maybe things can start to be ok for once.

“Daddy…you’re…squeezing me…” Avery rasps in weak, inaudible breaths, eyes still half-lidded.

“Oh, I’m sorry—I’m sorry, Munch.” Harry sits up, not wanting to hurt her. Although all he wants is to hold her and hug her and squeeze her and love her. “I’m just—I…I almost…I mean I—you’re _awake._ ” Harry weeps incoherently, blubbering through his overwhelmed words. “You’re a-awake and you’re talking and…and—oh Avie, baby, I missed you so much…I t-thought I might never get to…to…” And that’s as far as his words will go before he completely breaks down into emotional sobs, shoulders shaking as he curls in on himself.

So much so, that with all his perpetual tears of joy, Harry hadn’t even noticed the nurses coming into the room. They all meet Avery with wide, delighted smiles, genuinely happy to see her cognizant again. One of the nurses gives Avery a cup of water with a straw to ease the dryness of her throat, while another works on adjusting her drip, noting her current output readings and ensuring that’s she’s as comfortable as can be. Julie tries to calm Harry down, bending down to give him another hug while reminding him to breathe. She brought the coffee she promised, setting it down on the bedside table near him. And on her way out, Julie says something about giving them a minute to themselves before alerting the doctor on-call to do a complete assessment and full lab work up. But Harry can hardly stop himself from crying long enough to thank them properly.

The room clears out again, leaving Avery and an overly emotional Harry. She feebly reaches over to rest one of her small hands on his, tilting her head up slowly towards Harry. She opens her eyes a bit more before offering him a faint, but wonderfully warm smile.

“I’m ok, Daddy…it’s ok...” Avery tries to comfort him, her voice slowly returning after finishing the water like her nurse instructed. “I’m really sorry for scaring you so much…I’ll try not to anymore. I promise.” Even in her weakened voice, she sounds genuinely apologetic and even a bit worried that’s she’s done something wrong.

Harry swipes at his eyes, shaking his head at his impossibly sweet baby. “Oh no, Avie you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, angel. I’m just so h-happy to have you back with me.” He presses a series of tearful kisses to her cheeks as he always does, but this time it means so much more. “I love you…I love you…I love you…” He whispers repeatedly in between gentle presses of his lips, taking his time so she knows just how much he means it.

And although she’s still groggy and disoriented, Avery giggles a bit happily, nuzzling her head towards her father’s touch. “I love you more.”

“Impossible.” Harry sniffles, smiling down at her softly. How he has missed the sound of her laugh, the sound of her happy and awake and _alive_. Harry traces the side of her face with his fingers, trying to immortalize the welcomed feeling of unbridled relief that he feels right now.

“Daddy…how long have I been gone?” Avery wonders quietly. She glances down at her right arm in confusion, probably wondering why it’s not still set in a hard cast like it was the last time she was awake.

“Too long, Avie.” Harry whispers, not even wanting to think about it anymore, so glad that it’s a thing of the past now. “Too long.”

“And what’d you do without me for all that time?” Avery asks next and there seems to be a sense of worry in her question. But it touches Harry’s heart when he realizes that her innocent concern isn’t for herself at all, but for him.

“Wait for you to come back.”

 

||☤||

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUlX8ltm_JU&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVv2IC_wpDMOii1W7mToEayQ&index=3)

Louis swings his front door open and sighs heavily with the first flutter of relief he’s felt in hours. “H-Hi…”

“Oh my god...Louis…” Liam breathes deeply, taking one shocked look at his friend as he stands at the doorway. “You’re…”

“He’s _crying_ …” Zayn essentially gasps in disbelief, completing his boyfriend’s thought from where he stands at his side.

Louis nods his head weakly, as his tears continue to stream incessantly down his ruddy cheeks. It’s been three whole hours since he left Harry out in the forest and he still hasn’t been able to gain control over his emotions. If anything, it’s only gotten worse. And the more he tried to calm down, the more hell-bent his body remained, continuing to rebel against him.

He tried taking a shower, thinking that maybe the falling water would help wash it all away, but his saltwater tears only mixed with the fresh water stream of the cascading shower. He tried getting himself to laugh, turning on the TV and clicking on the very first comedy movie that Netflix suggested, but it wasn’t funny, nothing is funny right now and the tears didn’t stop. Benedict tried to console him as best a dog can, jumping on his lap to lick the salty tears from his face. And when that didn’t work, he started bringing Louis all of his favorite toys scattered around the house, as if sharing his little treasures would somehow cheer Louis up. It was the sweetest thing and it got Louis to smile because he loves that dog, but it still didn’t get his system to calm down.

And Louis didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t even think clearly enough to stop and figure out what he should do from a medical perspective, too distraught with countless emotions. This has never happened to him before; he’s never broken so irreparably like this before. So he did what most people would do at a time like this and he called his best friends. Louis doubted if they were even awake at this time of night, it’s three in the morning after all. If they were awake it’d probably be for some kind of work-related reason, but by some small miracle Liam was indeed awake when Louis called him and he didn’t even need to explain anything before Liam was promising incessantly that he’d come over right away with Zayn.

Liam exchanges a horribly worried look with Zayn as they stand in the foyer of Louis’ home, looking uncharacteristically out of depth in this situation. Liam always knows what to do and what to say, but out of all the times Louis has relied on his friends for comfort in the past, it’s never been this bad before, he’s never been this out of control. He’s never _cried_ , which explains their justified shock and trepidation towards the situation. And Louis should have called them sooner, he knows he should have, and he would have—maybe. It’s just that being vulnerable in front of other people is not something Louis does often and even now it’s an utterly foreign concept to grasp, but he can’t face this alone anymore, not when all the demons of his past are free and uninhibited to haunt his conscious mind as they please.

“I...I c-can’t stop…it won’t s-stop…” Louis sobs hysterically, leaning over weakly to brace his knees as he attempts to intake any oxygen his burning lungs can manage. “I haven’t c-cried in…i-in eighteen years and…and it won’t f-fucking stop—it h-hurts… _god_ —I can’t breathe…I can’t…I c-can’t…”

“Oh Lou...” Liam outbreaths empathetically as he pulls Louis right into his arms, figuring the best thing he can do is simply hold his friend. He crosses his arms tightly across Louis’ back, trying to make him feel as secure as possible, despite the shivers his body can’t adequately regulate. “What happened? How long have you been like this?”

“I don’t…I d-don’t know—I w-was...I was with H-Harry and he...j-just…I m-mean we...and I—” Louis’ face splits down the middle. That’s what’s so awful about this, he’s feeling so many things at once, he can’t even pinpoint his thoughts, let alone his stuttered words. And consequently, Louis can only cry inconsolably against Liam’s shoulder, heartbreakingly overwrought with anguished sorrow. Everything in him wants to hold it in and hold it back, keep what fragile shreds of himself he has left, but yet everything is spilling out of him regardless. “My family is d-dead…they’re all _dead…_ and…a-and I don’t w-want Avery to die t-too…I d-don’t want to watch her d-die like her m-mum died—I’ve w-watched too many people d-die...she can’t die too Li…she c-can’t, she can’t…I l-love her, I love her s-so much…”

_i can’t take another loss_

“Ok, ok, shh…you’re ok, Lou. You’re ok.” Liam soothes gently, not wavering his tight grip around Louis’ frame.

When it comes to Avery, Louis continually puts on a brave face as her doctor, trying to keep hope alive even when times are dark. And over the last few weeks, he’s tried so hard not to panic Harry with far off, but potentially threatening realities. Promising a plan to treat her, promising to find a way out of this dooming situation. But Louis doesn’t have a plan, he has nothing at all. Nothing but the looming scans of a growing tumor that scares the living shit out of him, nothing but the ceaseless prayer that maybe it will defy all logic and understanding and just disappear into thin air and all of this will just go away.

“No—I can’t w-watch her d-die—I can’t…I c-can’t…” Louis clutches Liam’s back in desperation, weeping hysterically.

_not her, anything but her_

“Make i-it stop… _p-please_ …I d-don’t wanna feel it a-anymore…” Louis whimpers, eyes squeezed shut with his head buried to Liam’s chest. He doesn’t want to fight his feelings anymore, but he also wants to be able to function and fighting them off seems like the only road to survival. He knows he shouldn’t have bottled up his emotions for so long, allowing them to build up to catastrophic, unmanageable levels. And now being forced to brave the effects of a lifetime of repressed trauma all at once is killing him inside. All he wants is for it to be over, so maybe he can start to breathe again, function again. “I…just—i-it hurts…everything h-hurts…”

It’s scary to not be able to escape his own mind, to be repeatedly faced with his greatest fears, horrific fears that have already been actualized into a cruel reality in the past. His fears aren’t irrational in nature, he’s seen it before, he’s been here before and the notion of having to relive versions of those experiences yet again is continually turning his entire world upside down. It’s horrifying to lose yourself, to feel yourself slipping away from the close guarded reigns of impending sanity. But perhaps the only way to gain control again is to lose it. Maybe the key to surviving the effects of loss is simply to lose. Loosen his grip, lose everything, lose it all and begin to find a semblance of strength in all that he lacks, in all that he lost.

Zayn moves in closer to wrap his arms around Louis’ trembling frame from behind, holding him just as securely as Liam. And held up by the support of his best friends, Louis stops. He stops trying to keep himself standing upright, stops resisting, stops _fighting_ , relinquishing that last thread of nearly nonexistent control as he sags into Liam and Zayn’s significantly stronger arms. The much needed comfort of human contact and strong pressure against all sides of his body provides the illusion of safety. It doesn’t feel as innately secure as Harry’s embrace did out in the meadow, but the encompassing strength of their hold begins to ground him regardless, tethering him to one tangible moment instead of the wide range flooding his mind relentlessly.   

Liam and Zayn hold him tightly until the panic settles down, drastically calming his autonomic nervous system through the basic but effective mechanism of deep, pressure compression. The stringently enclosed hold around his sympathetically stimulated body incites the much needed release of oxytocin, combating the high stress cortisol coursing through him.

“He’s gotta be dehydrated.” Liam whispers to Zayn over Louis’ shoulder, although Louis can obviously hear him. But he’s not wrong, after all the crying Louis has done, he’s probably wrung his body dry. That’s the positive side of having doctors for best friends, they think of everything even when he’s too much of a mess to remember on his own.

Zayn pulls back a little, moving to the side to look directly at Louis. “How about some tea? Louis, do you want tea?” He tries softly, hand on Louis’ back as he rubs his back in slow circles. “Would that help a little?”

Louis nods faintly, sniffling as he wipes away a few of his settling tears. A fresh cuppa sounds amazing right now, everything he needs to begin soothing his aching soul.

Zayn offers him a gentle, encouraging smile. “Ok, babe. I’ll make it for you.”

While Zayn sets about Louis’ kitchen to prepare a pot of tea, Liam guides Louis over to the living room couch to sit down. And three and a half cups of tea later, Louis feels better than he has in hours, calmer than he has is hours, tears ceased and breathing reassured. He has both hands curled around a warm mug that never seems to run dry as long as Zayn is around and he sits comfortably cross-legged on the couch. There’s a box of tissues strategically placed in his lap by Liam, while a thick blanket swaddles his shoulders, also Liam’s handiwork. His friends sit on either side of him, cocooning him with their arms from what feels like every angle, and Louis kind of wants to laugh because his thoughtful, caring friends are treating him like he’s their injured child or something. And although ordinarily Louis would probably hate that, he’s so appreciative of Liam and Zayn’s efforts tonight. Everyone needs friends like them in life.

“Well who knew tea would actually sedate you?” Zayn smiles softly, teasing only a bit.

Louis probably should have thought of making himself tea earlier and maybe if his body wasn’t so stressed out, he would have. Not only is he a natural lover of tea, but as a science nerd, Louis knows that certain teas contain L-Theanine, an amino acid proven to decrease tension, lower anxiety and promote relaxation, acting like a soporific agent. It’s no real wonder why he’s finally so calm now.

Louis offers a small grin, sniffling. “Next time you should just sedate me for real. Stab me in the ass with a horse tranquilizer or something.” 

Liam chuckles, shaking his head. “And kill you? Never.”

Louis laughs a little, dropping his head down on Liam’s shoulder while taking Zayn’s closest hand in his. He can’t even begin to express how utterly grateful he is to his friends. For all that he teases them or hides himself away from them at times, they really never stop having his back and Louis will always be thankful to them for that. “Thank you both for coming over so late…I’m uh…I’m really sorry I’ve been such a mess lately…I’m—”

“Oh shh, Louis. Shh, stop.” Liam brushes off instantly, head leaned down on top of Louis’. “You have a lot going on and we get that. Really, we do. I only wish that we could somehow fix it for you. But no matter what, we’ll always be here for you, you know that. And the same goes for Niall even though he’s probably asleep.”

“Yeah, we all love you and that will never change. You’re stuck with us forever.” Zayn gives Louis’ fingers a squeeze. “And besides, we had no excuse not to show up…we were already up anyway.” He smirks with a suggestive wink that is in no way subtle. 

“I didn’t need to know that last part.” Louis frowns, rolling his eyes. Although he’s not really that bothered. “I don’t know how many times I need to say that I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”

“Well you interrupted my sex life with all your problems, so too bad. Deal with it.” Zayn says back jokingly, smile widening.

“Asshole.” Louis laughs again, whacking Zayn’s knee playfully. But his laugh dies out when his pager starts buzzing against the coffee table he left it on earlier. He picks it up, staring down at the succinct message on the screen.

“You’re not on-call tonight, are you?” Liam questions in concern, giving Louis a disapproving look. “Because I really don’t think you should go in right now, Louis.”

“Yeah Lou, let someone else handle it.” Zayn agrees, also picking up the same echoes of worry in his tone, but doing a better job at masking it.

He isn’t on-call tonight, but that doesn’t matter at all when he reads over the message. “It’s Avery.” Louis sits up instantly in alert, entire body going stiff. He rereads the words over and over trying to get his muddled brain to make sense of them. The page is maddeningly brief and gives hardly any information whatsoever. All he knows is that whatever the true nature of the page, it concerns Avery. And if it’s about her, there isn’t a question of whether he is going or not.

“Louis, but—”

“No, no I have to go.” Louis insists, swiping at his irritably red eyes, already untangling himself from the couch to stand on his feet. He doesn’t care how awful he still feels or how physically and emotionally tired his entire body is, if it has anything to do with Avery, nothing will stop him from being there.

 

||☤||

 

When Louis gets to the hospital, he changes himself into a pair of scrubs in record time. His eyes burn so bad from crying all night that he can’t even wear his contacts. Which maybe is for the best because at least the frames of his glasses marginally mask the heavy bags and puffy redness under his eyes. And if it really came down to it, Louis won’t hesitate to blame it all on allergy season.

He doesn’t bother stopping at the nurses’ station when he gets to his floor, instead heading straight to Avery’s room only to find it unsettlingly empty. And that’s not normal, not for a patient that is supposed to still be in a comatose state. The page he received didn’t specify anything about this and he is already unhinged enough as it is. Unexpected uncertainty immediately sends the sharpest pang of dread right through Louis’ veins, chilling him to his core.

_deep breaths, just take deep breaths_

There are plenty of logical reasons as to why she might not be in her room, plenty of sound, medical reasons that have no explicitly negative connotations attached. But the only one Louis’ exhausted and stressed mind can dwell on is the worst possible scenario. All he can rationalize is that maybe she started coding because the shunt he placed a few weeks ago failed, causing her to seize again while he was away and then she could’ve—no. No, he is not going to think like that, all he needs to do is find the charge nurse and ask for a debrief.

And that is exactly what Louis does. On shaky legs and an unsteady frame of mind, Louis makes his way to the centrally located nurses’ station.

“Morning, Dr. Tomlinson.” The charge nurse behind the desk greets, sipping on a cup of coffee.

“Erm hi—morning, yeah um…where is Avery Styles?” Louis asks, trying to keep the rising panic out of his voice. “Why isn’t she in her room?”

“Oh…you haven’t heard? She woke up last night!” The nurse gushes happily with a wide smile.

“She’s…s-she’s awake…” Louis gasps in disbelief, eyes widening behind the frames of his glasses. And just hearing that alone makes him want to cry again, makes him want to fall down and weep in a curled up ball on the floor. The tension he was holding in his shoulders dissipates as an unexpected relief floods his body with such sudden urgency that he almost feels weak and even a bit lightheaded.

“Yes, she woke up a few hours ago. No deficits as of yet. But she’s down in radiology right now because Dr. Jones ordered—”

 _“Jones?!”_ Louis blurts as his auditory cortex kicks back in and he starts to register what the nurse is saying to him. His momentary bubble of peace and thanksgiving is cut short and suddenly he realizes that he has far more questions buzzing through his head than he has answers. “And why wasn’t I paged earlier?”

“Well, protocol only requires notification of the primary physician on the patient’s case and since that’s not you anymore and you also weren’t on-call, Dr. Jones said not to page you.” The nurse explains. “I’m sorry Dr. Tomlinson, I was only following Dr. Jones’ instructions.”

It’s not the nurse’s fault, Louis knows it’s not. And he would never place blame or direct his rising anger towards the situation at her. But still Louis’ head reels, Avery _woke up_ , after weeks of waiting and hoping she finally broke free from the prison her body held her captive in and even though she’s originally been his patient from the start, Louis didn’t get so much as a notification. It’s just like Dr. Jones to run his own program even though Louis specifically talked to him about this weeks ago when he was first assigned primary status on Avery’s case.

Louis thanks the nurse briefly before barreling down the corridor in search of the one doctor on his staff that never fails to make his blood boil.

“Dr. Jones!” Louis barks firmly once he finds the man in question, coming out of the lab with his head bowed down towards the charting tablet in his grasp.

“Oh, hello Dr. Tomlinson.” Dr. Jones greets without looking up from his tablet, apparently recognizing Louis by the sound of his voice alone.

“Why the hell didn’t you page me as soon as Avery woke up?” Louis fumes, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “We talked about this.”

“You aren’t the primary physician on her case anymore, Dr. Tomlinson. I am. Chief Aoki did make that clear, correct?” Dr. Jones shrugs his shoulders casually, flicking his gaze up momentarily. “It’s not imperative that you be here.”

Louis wants to fire the man on the spot. Jones loves to belittle Louis at every chance he gets, most likely because he was initially after Louis’ position as Head of Neuro. Becoming a department head at Louis’ age was no easy feat, but he earned it on his own merit and he does a damn good job at it, so Jones and his bitter superiority complex can fuck right off. “Yes, I’m very aware of The Chief’s order, but I’m still on the case as a secondary consult as we’ve discussed and I’m also your boss as The Head of this department and I need to be paged and kept informed about the patients on _my_ floor.”

Dr. Jones narrows his eyes with displeasure, obviously not at all fond of being reminded of Louis’ higher position over him. “Yes, well…since you are here, I suppose you may join me in the conference room as I speak with the patient’s father. But please, no disruptions. You may technically be my boss, but I’ve been doing this since before you were born, son. This is my case now and we will do it my way. Understood?”

Louis scowls, pursing his lips tightly together and resisting the urge to yell ‘ _fucking retire old man_ ’ at Jones’ face. After everything that happened last night with Harry and the exceedingly long and emotional early morning he’s had, he is in no mood for whatever power trip Dr. Jones is on. Louis absolutely hates to be demeaned and Jones pisses him off just by simply existing on the O.R. board.

“Fine.” Louis grits through his teeth, plastering on the fakest of smiles. “Lead the way, _Pops_.” He stresses purposely, matching Jones’ earlier ‘ _son’_ statement, which had not gone unnoticed or been appreciated in any way.

“The patient’s father is waiting in conference room two.” Dr. Jones gestures down the hall, gathering his charts and notes before walking towards the private room, Louis following behind.

Louis hopes Harry doesn’t think he requested to be off the case after what happened last night. They never properly discussed the change in lead physician since Avery’s case was temporarily non-surgical while she was unconscious. No matter what ever went on between them personally, Louis would always fight to stay on the case. He would suck it up and shove it down for Avery’s well being. Avery is his number one priority right now. 

When they walk into the room, Harry stands to greet them, seeming to deliberate whether to meet Louis’ eyes or not as he tugs slightly on his lip. But Louis can’t seem to stop staring at him, just wondering what is going on in Harry’s mind right now. It must be so overwhelming to have Avery awake again, especially considering the rollercoaster he’s been through with her already. A quick scan around the room and Louis notices that Jesse isn’t present—no surprise there. If he wasn’t here when Avery fell into a coma in the first place, he certainly wouldn’t show up when she came out of it. And Louis wonders how Harry is coping with all that, forced to deal with everything on his own with a failed, unreliable support system. Dr. Jones is utterly oblivious to the tension between them and Louis wishes that the old man wasn’t here so he and Harry could drop all pretenses and talk freely.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Jones.” He extends his hand out to Harry politely, giving him a practiced smile. “I’ll be the new lead surgeon on your daughter’s case.”

“Erm…hi…lovely to meet you…” Harry slowly takes his offered hand for a shake, but a million different confused questions pass over his face in hesitant waves. He glances unsurely towards Louis, still by the door, looking for answers. “But what about Lo—Dr. Tomlinson? Is he still…uh—” 

“I’ll be here.” Louis rushes to say, meeting Harry’s eyes meaningfully. “I’m not leaving. I’m still here, I promise.” He tries his best to reassure Harry with his tone and open eyes, but Louis still registers the doubt portrayed in the frown of Harry’s brow.

“Yes, well…at this stage, it is just in your best interest to have another opinion.” Dr. Jones answers diplomatically.

Louis rolls his eyes automatically, trying not to sigh outright. Dr. Jones knows good and well that Louis doesn’t give two fucks about his ancient ass opinion. The only reason he’s here is because Louis lost his cool and failed to act rationally, not because Jones has anything substantial to offer medically. Especially nothing _new_. 

“Oh um ok…I guess...” Harry nods slowly, gaze still lingering on Louis as they all begin to sit down at the conference table.

“Alright, let’s get to it then.” Dr. Jones claps his hands together, leaning over the table. “So according to your daughter’s most recent labs, the shunt Dr. Tomlinson placed in surgery is holding very well and the CSF buildup has been completely relieved. A physical assessment has shown that Avery has suffered no physical or cognitive deficits thus far, and activities are functional.”

Harry exhales shakily with relief, smiling slowly with hope. It’s a smile Louis hasn’t seen on him in so long and it’s so refreshing to see, almost infectious. He deserves to have a bit of encouraging news for once.

“And although that is all positive, it doesn’t alleviate the real issue here.” Dr. Jones continues, shaking his head gloomily. “Avery is still terminally sick—”

“What my… _colleague_ means is that it’s going to take innovation and determination to treat Avery properly.” Louis clarifies, totally unappreciative of the wet blanket approach Jones is taking. “Her tumor is out of the scope of simple surgery, but that doesn’t mean it’s over—”

“Well, I believe we need to remain realistic.” Jones argues, speaking over Louis. “Yes, Avery is awake, but the reality is there is still no proposed method of treating her. The fact of the matter is, the mass in her brain will kill her.” He informs harshly, showing no signs that he ever learned or even remembers decent bedside manner. “We can expect that as time goes on, many side effects will overtake the quality of her life as her body deteriorates. There could be anything from partial paralysis to varying changes in temperament, loss of basic senses—sight or hearing or even touch; as well as constant nausea and high fevers, not to mention the acute headaches.”

Harry’s face falls instantly. The hopeful smile he just had, completely vanquished from his face, replaced with crippling worry and devastating fear. And Louis hates it more than anything, wanting to meet Harry on the other side of the table just to hold him tightly in his arms.

“We can schedule another round of chemotherapy, but at this time that is the most we can do for her and we don’t foresee the plan of treatment making any drastic changes.” Dr. Jones continues, hardly batting an eyelash.

Harry looks absolutely distraught, mouth held slightly open in shock as his eyes remain widened and Louis wonders if he is even breathing. The more upset Harry looks, the angrier Louis gets at how Jones is presenting the situation.

“At this rate, Avery has, at best, 4 months to live. Probably less.” Dr. Jones informs frankly, not bothering to soften the blow. “Realistically, you should prepare yourself for the worst.”

Louis nearly snaps his charting tablet in half at the blunt and rude words of his associate. There was not a single ounce of empathy in his statement, not even a speck of compassion. And Louis knows that he won’t be able to bite his tongue if he stays seated any longer, so he leaves, pushing his chair back angrily as he storms out of the room, slamming the chart down hard on the counter of the nurses’ station outside.

It only takes several moments for Dr. Jones to follow him out, strolling up to Louis in question. “Dr. Tomlinson, do you have a problem I’m not aware of?”

“Yes, _you_.” Louis snaps in irritation, whirling around to face Dr. Jones. “Why did you have to tear him down like that? Was it really necessary?”

“We always give the patient’s family all of the information. That is protocol.” Dr. Jones persists, expression affronted. “You know this.”

“No, that was _not_ protocol, that was just cruel!” Louis argues adamantly, body tensing up. There are so many better ways to explain an awful situation, ways that let someone know that there are people who care about them and their loved one, ways to make them still feel safe even when faced with the impossible. “Like the miracle she is, Avery woke up with no cognitive deficits or impairments. That was the only bit of hope Harry has heard in weeks and you crushed it. Just like that, you crushed it.”

“Her father needed to know. It’s best to be realistic about all the potential outcomes from the very beginning.”

“He does know! Believe me, he does! Do you think that for one second he isn’t aware of the fact that his daughter is dying!? He is living it! Everyday he wakes up and he _knows_! It’s happening right before his own eyes!” Louis yells irately as his agitation gets the best of him. “He deserved to just enjoy a bit of good news for once, relish in the fact that she’s awake! That for right now, she’s alive and stable and you fucking destroyed that.”

“Dr. Tomlinson!” Dr. Jones hisses, appalled at the use of profanity. “Look, I don’t want to report you to The Chief, but you are obviously way too close to this patient and completely out of line. I know technically you’re my superior as Head of Neurosurgery and apparently some kind of wiz kid, but in my day, hot shot doctors found themselves drowning in malpractice suits—” 

“Well, we aren’t in your day anymore, Dr. Jones. Thank fuck! Here in today’s world, we don’t just throw in the goddamn towel at the first sign of struggle. You may think I’m young and arrogant, but I care about my patients and I believe they deserve more from me than an ‘I’m sorry, there is nothing more I can do, prepare to die’ attitude.” Louis continues, voice growing in ferocity. “There is _alway_ s something I can do and I’m not going to stop until I figure it out. That is my job as her doctor. To keep hope alive in my patients.”

“Hope is a fragile thing to promise.” Dr. Jones warns, eyes narrowed.

“Yes, but also a powerful tool for the impossible to be made possible.” Louis responds, head held high. “And I’m not going to let hope die just because it’s the easy way out. I’m sorry that you lack the capacity to understand that.”

“A line has to be drawn.” Dr. Jones argues, shaking his head in frustration. “Some things are beyond your control and you need to accept that.”

“If that defeatist attitude is how you choose to practice medicine, I suggest you finally do everyone, _especially_ me, a favor and bloody retire.” Louis huffs, long past the point where he gave a shit. “You lack imagination, you lack scope and depth of practice, relying only on seniority and outdated methodology to carry you along. But if you continue to refuse to get with the times, I highly suggest you go while you still have some credibility left.”

Dr. Jones gasps in dismay, jaw dropping as he promptly spins on his heel to storm off down the hall. “Never in all my years have I ever—ugh! The nerve of that young man!” Dr. Jones rambles to himself angrily, impossibly flustered.

His little outburst is probably going to come right back to bite Louis in the ass, but it was absolutely worth it. Louis is hardly sorry for his words, after all, someone had to say it. Dr. Jones deserved every piece of Louis’ mind, and hopefully he won’t ever forget it.

 

||✚||

 

Harry sits alone in the conference room for a moment, just trying to sort out his thoughts. Even though it’s nothing that he didn’t already know on some level, what Dr. Jones said really hit him. The thought of only having mere months left with Avery is not only horrifying, but completely shocking. He at least thought that they’d have more time together—yes, he’s always understood that the type of tumor Avery has is aggressive, but still it’s never been more real to him than right now.

Harry takes a deep, centering breath, shaking his head to clear his thoughts and return his mind back to the positive. He forces his attention back to a few hours ago, when Avery first woke up and how in that moment nothing else mattered, in that one passing moment everything felt at peace. He just wants to hold onto that feeling, recycle it and reprocess it through his darkening thoughts in order to help him even try to cope with the uncertain realities looming over him.

Right now Avery is alive and awake and already talking and laughing like her old self and that’s far more than yesterday, that’s _everything_. If the shunt has bought her a bit more time, if it eases her pain for at least a little while longer, then all Harry can do now is focus on the good in that and take each and every day one moment at a time.

Stepping out of the conference room, hoping to keep his fleetingly positive outlook in tact, Harry collides instantly with Louis in the hallway.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Trr3XA7KoLM&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVv2IC_wpDMOii1W7mToEayQ&index=4)

“Shit Harry, I’m sorry. Sorry—sorry.” Louis repeats, righting himself. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s ok. It’s ok. I ran into you, it’s my bad.” Harry rushes to say, trying not to spook Louis away. The air between them is odd, everything that was left unsaid the previous night hanging thickly in the air.

“I mean um…I’m not just sorry for this erm—bumping into you…I mean—I _am_ sorry for this…too…I guess…uh but um—god! What the fuck?” Louis scrubs a hand over his face, obviously exceedingly frustrated with himself and his fumbling words. He pinches his brow trying to refocus his thoughts. “I’m just…sorry.”

Harry’s face softens as he reaches out, placing a reassuring hand lightly to Louis’ waist. “Louis, you don’t need to apologize—”

“No, no, see, but I do.” Louis pointedly slides out of Harry’s touch, keeping a maintained distance between them. “Dr. Jones was completely out of line and he shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. He can be so out of touch when it comes to handling cases like these and as he’s one of my staff, I’m really sorry for what happened in there.” He apologizes in a more professional cadence, before growing skittish and anxious once again, lowing his gaze down to his shoes. “Also…about last night…I um I didn’t mean to um…unload all that on you. You have so much going on right now— _so much,_ and uh…I know I probably made things a lot worse by fucking breaking down on you like that so…I’m sorry, yeah...”

Harry frowns, already beginning to shake his head. How can Louis possibly think that? After what Harry put him through by up and leaving all those years ago, if anyone should be apologizing, it’s Harry. “What? No, Louis that’s not it. I’m…I mean I can’t believe you shared that with me—I know it couldn’t have been easy to talk about and you didn’t have to tell me—”

“And I shouldn’t have obviously, cuz it just made me…or—I mean it reminded me about other things…about you—about us and I don’t um…I…”

What Louis did was brave, that’s the only way it could ever be classified in Harry’s mind. Opening himself up, allowing himself to be inexplicably vulnerable despite the inherit risk; that takes a level of bravery that not everyone possesses. A bravery Harry desperately wishes he knew how to house within himself so that he could boldly use this moment to tell Louis exactly how he feels about him. Harry doesn’t understand why Louis is suddenly so apologetic about last night, why he feels like he crossed some sort of invisible line and why he’s attempting to build more unnecessary walls between them again. Especially when they've just gone through such great lengths to begin tearing a few of them down.

And then Harry realizes it—or him, actually—the reason why Louis must be so adamantly maintaining his distance.

Jesse.

Harry knows of the animosity that lies between Louis and his ex-fiancé, he’s sensed it on more than one occasion, and it’s more than justified. And because of the person Louis is, he’d never try to wedge himself between what he thinks Harry still has with Jesse, consequently leading to the current rising amounts of tension displaced between them.

Louis has not the slightest idea that his relationship with Jesse is over because with all that happened the night before, Harry never had a chance to tell him. And to be perfectly honest, Harry really didn’t know how to bring it up to Louis, unable to force out the jumbled words dangling off the tip of his tongue. Or perhaps, at the true heart of it all, Harry was actually just scared, so fucking scared. And even now he still feels the unnerving effects of uncertainty; only because there’s no way to know how telling the truth might change things, there’s no way to prepare for what this could potentially mean for them.

But prepared or not, Harry knows that he needs to tell Louis about Jesse. Maybe it’ll change something, maybe it won’t change a thing, but Louis deserves to know the real truth about them. Harry would never expect Louis to forgive him right away, if at all, but he so desperately hopes that he will. Even if they have to start all the way back at square one, it’s still a start somewhere.

So Harry inhales once more through his nose and he steels himself up to say his next words. “Look Louis, Jesse and I—”

“Awh _fuck_.” Louis hisses to himself, squeezing his eyes for a moment as though embarrassed. “I know you’re engaged Harry, I know, I get it, you don’t have to remind me. I won’t get in the way of your relationship with your fiancé. And I’ll apologize to Jesse too, if it helps...I dunno…”

“No—that’s not necessary at all.” Harry shakes his head, closing some of the distance between them for the second time. And once again Harry wishes that a bravery he can’t seem to find within himself would suddenly take hold of him. Stop him from overthinking things and force him to say what he needs to say. Every unneeded apology out of Louis’ mouth, makes Harry feel even more shitty than he already feels. Louis has nothing to be sorry for. Harry broke his heart, smashed it into unrecognizable pieces and left him to try and piece himself back together on his own. But how could he, when everywhere Louis looked he was automatically reminded of that same shattering heartbreak. Being expected to function, to live, to continue to meet the expectations of his highly competitive career, under that amount of emotional pressure is unbelievable. And Harry knows he should be the one sputtering out apologies, screaming about how sorry he is for the rest of his life.

“We already don’t get along as it is—he doesn’t trust me and even though nothing happened, he’s probably going to give you shit for just being with me last night…” Louis goes on, lowering his head down.

God, why the hell can’t Harry just shut Louis up? Shake him by the shoulders and stop him from apologizing any more. Be that person that boldly interrupts his pointless apologies with a kiss, cupping his hands to Louis’ cheeks, pulling his face to his own and silencing him with his lips.

If he were braver, if he were bolder, if he could find it within himself to throw every last caution to the wind, then it wouldn’t stop there. Harry would profess the countless apologies burning at the forefront of his brain, he would say everything outright, in spirit and in truth and everything in between.

_i’m sorry for leaving you when i knew i loved you…_

“And I can’t even blame him for not trusting me—he’s right after all. You were never just a friend to me…we weren’t nothing to each other back then…” Louis admits quietly, still talking down to the floor. “You probably know by now that I’m not the biggest fan of your fiancé, but in his defense…I can see how he feels a bit misplaced when it comes to me and you so uh…”

_i’m sorry for making you feel alone when you needed me most…_

“If he makes you happy, then I’m…I’m happy for you.” Louis continues, having not looked up at Harry once in all this time. “Last night, I…I don’t know? I overshared, I think, yeah…and I never dealt with my feelings properly so they...erm got out of control. But um…I’m trying now. Really, I am. So…um—it won’t happen again.”

_i’m sorry for breaking your heart when it was already broken…_

Louis runs another hand through his hair before adjusting the frames of his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Anyway…I’m just really sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything like that, because that was never my intention…”

_i’m sorry, i’m sorry i’m so, so sorry…_

Why isn’t this easier? And why is he so scared? What the fuck is wrong with him? Why can’t he just say the words branded permanently on his heart? It takes Harry a moment to draw up any sort of answer to his own question, but when he really thinks about it…the answer is quite simple after all.

Because Louis means more to him. Louis has always meant so much more to him. He means everything and Harry doesn’t want to burden him any more than he already has. Ever since he met Louis, he’s been dumping his life’s problems on him and he’s done so much damage that all could have been avoided. And he feels… _guilty_.

If last night proved anything, it’s that Harry hurt Louis in seemingly irreparable ways and he needs space to heal. Louis deserves distance to process his emotions and Harry can’t begin to justify putting him through this again. Not when he’s hardly even sure he can handle it himself.

“So…can we just put all this behind us?” Louis concludes in a quiet and distant voice, slowly meeting Harry’s eyes again.

Maybe letting Louis think he’s still with Jesse is good for him, maybe it's how it's supposed to be. Maybe he’s been trying to keep Louis, when Louis was never meant to be his, maybe all he can ever bring to Louis’ life is pain. Maybe Harry should be a fucking adult for once and let him go. He had his chance with Louis, he had it and he fucked it up. How can he possibly expect Louis to take him back now, to forgive all he’s done? Louis deserves the chance to finally move on and learn to breathe again and there’s no way he can ever do that with Harry.

“Um…o-ok. Ok...” Harry stutters out finally, heart not matching the words leaving his lips. Never has Harry felt so much, but stayed so regrettably silent. Never has he had so much he wants to say, _needs_ to say, but instead said so little. He can’t let Louis go, but he also doesn’t know if it’s right to ask him to stay. How to make Louis want him as badly as Harry wants him.

“Ok…” Louis answers slowly, eyes still trained on Harry, locked on him for some undisclosed reason, as though he is held as a prisoner of time. Harry tells himself that maybe Louis is still looking at him for a reason. He tells himself that maybe with his charged, wordless gaze, Louis is silently asking Harry for a reason to stay. A reason to take back all he just said.

But then Louis lowers his head and Harry senses that he’s about to walk away. And Harry tries to stick to his resolution of letting Louis go but—no, this is stupid. It’s stupid, right? Louis is the love of his life and he knows it, Harry _knows_ it and he feels it every single time Louis so much as glances his way, he’s continually overwhelmed by the feelings he has for the beautiful person standing right in front of him. Every day that he's been back in Seattle, Harry has fallen further out of love with Jesse and deeper in love with Louis until Louis became the only man he could think about. Harry should just tell Louis, suck it up and tell him exactly how he feels. Why hold it back any longer? Harry wants to protect Louis, but he’s a grown man and he should have the choice to decide how much he can handle; if he can forgive Harry, if it’s worth a shot to try something between them or not. Then at least Harry can say that he told him, that he was honest, and that he tried.

Harry opens his mouth to refute his previous statement, taking a step closer. “Actually, Louis wait…”

_just say it_

“Yes?” Louis lifts his head back up and their eyes lock again with all the strength of polar charged magnets.

Gazing at Louis’ brilliantly blue eyes, Harry feels the compelling urge to blurt out everything he’s ever felt for this man in one breath. And he’s about to do it, Harry swears on everything he’s ever loved that he really is about to spill his entire soul to Louis. But then Harry once again hears Louis’ parting words from the night before, ringing angrily and hauntingly in his ears.

_don’t harry…just don’t…_

Harry’s mouth is as dry as dust, tongue feeling akin to sandpaper as he gazes at Louis longingly, feeling more confliction than he’s ever felt in his life. Louis’ eyes are momentarily unguarded and earnest and Harry swears he sees specks of hope entwined among the many unanswered questions rimmed in his weary eyes. And Harry absolutely hates himself for not being a bigger man about this, a better man, allowing fear and uncertainty to overtake any gust of determination he had inside. But at the heart of it, all Harry wants now is for Louis to be ok and to be happy and he just doesn’t know if that equates to them being together right now. And if it doesn’t, Harry is going to be ok with that, because Louis’ well-being matters more to him than his own. “Um…I mean…I—”

And maybe it was ill-fated luck that caused Louis’ pager to start beeping, maybe it was doomed providence that tore Louis’ strong gaze from Harry, dissipating their unspoken connection into nonexistent waters. Like the precise snapping of fingers, a trance broken and a moment lost.  

Louis blinks, looking down as he fumbles around the pockets of his white coat awkwardly, patting himself down in search of his ringing pager.

“Uh…ok...” Louis nods to himself, standing up a little straighter and meeting Harry’s eyes again briefly, completely refocused and no longer unguarded. Whatever question was laced in his irises is long gone and everything about him is shielded yet again. “Ok.” He says again, this time sounding far more determined as he starts to walk away.

And the worst part is, Harry lets him walk away.

Again.

 

||☤||

 

After being pulled into surgery unexpectedly—not that unexpectedly, it’s part of the job after all, Louis knows he needs to go home and try to get some rest. Somehow it’s nearly two in the morning once again and running on no hours of sleep, three cups of coffee, and a host of emotional fumes is no way to properly practice medicine. But it wouldn’t be the first time nor will it be the last, Louis is sure.

It was good though, to operate and put his hands to good use. Allowed him to shut down for a little while, focus on something other than the utter disaster that is his life at the current moment. He is exhausted in more than one sense, but as he stands at the nurses’ station, reporting the last of his post-op notes for the day, he realizes that he still hasn’t even seen Avery yet.

He’s been pulled from one place to another all day and although his mind functioned on a decently professional level, his heart was with her, always with her. And Louis could have made concessions for himself, called off sick or pushed his pages and patients onto someone else just so he could be with her, but he didn’t. Not because he didn’t want to, never that, but because he’s spent the entire day convincing himself that he’s doing it for the best.

As he has been reminded several times today, Louis is no longer her primary doctor. Meaning that his only legitimate tie to her is far less valid than it once was. Of course Louis knows he could still visit her without a medical basis, he isn’t so sure if he should at this point. For the sake of his own fleeting sanity, he has no choice but to distance himself from Harry. And distancing himself from Harry by association also means distancing himself from Avery.

But he hates it, Louis hates even the idea of it. Going this long, knowing that she’s conscious and that she’s only a hairsbreadth away from where he currently stands and not dropping everything to run over to see her, is the hardest test of restraint Louis has ever managed. But in the long run, this is what’s best for everyone—at least that’s what he’s going to keep telling himself to make it through the passing days.

It’s all for the best…even when it’s just _not_.

Louis fidgets with himself, glancing down at his watch for the fifth time in three minutes to once again confirm the time he already knows. He tries to go back to his notes, anxiously tapping his pen against the counter until he forsakes it all together, dropping the pen down. He can’t stop thinking about Avery, battling an internal tug-of-war with himself about what he should do.

_i should go see her…_

Louis glances around the halls, it’s nearly a ghost town around this time of night, only a few lingering on-call staff lurking around the halls waiting to be needed in some capacity. Maybe he can just see her, not talk to her or interact, just walk by her room briefly. She’s probably asleep anyway and it’s not like he’s talking about barging into her room unannounced to wake her up. Simply seeing her would be enough, seeing her and knowing that she’s no longer in a cataleptic state, that even though she’s asleep right now it’s no longer permanent, she’s free to move and live at will.

_i need to see her…_

Louis knows what he promised himself, he knows the reason and the rationale behind it, but at the same time he’s also missed Avery so much more than he can articulate and seeing her at a distance is absolutely harmless.

“Fuck it.” Louis mumbles to himself decisively, pocketing his pen and mini notepad before placing his charting tablet back on the charging deck.

Still dressed in his open surgical gown and cap from his previous surgery, Louis makes his way over to Avery’s room. He’s quiet about it of course, not wanting to wake her up or any of the other patients on the floor, for that matter. But it doesn’t quite make much difference in Avery’s case because it seems as though she’s already wide awake, almost like she was waiting for him or something.

“Louis!” Avery calls excitedly from her bed, spotting him the second he passes by her room. “I knew you would come see me!”

Louis peeks his head into the room with a small, growing grin on his face, offering her a little wave. “What are you doing awake?” He whispers curiously from the doorway.

Part of him is beyond glad that she hasn’t gone to sleep yet. There aren’t words to describe how good it feels to see her conscious again. To see that beautiful dimpled smile, that he loves so much, lighting up her whole face in such heart-stopping ways. And with how bright and cheerful she is, Louis can almost trick himself into forgetting that she is even sick. Which is so much like how her mother was, always in good spirits up until the very end.

Avery gives him a knowing look, smile as vivid and brilliant as ever. “Well I think I’ve slept enough recently, don’t you?”

Louis can’t help but widen his already broad grin at her; he’s _missed_ her. He has missed that understated spark of nine-year-old sassiness that Avery never fails to deliver.

“And besides, I’m waiting for my Daddy to get back with my fries.” Avery continues. “We were watching a movie, but I really, really, really, _reeaallyy_ wanted fries all of a sudden and he promised to get them for me.”

Louis hadn’t even thought about what he would have said to Harry if he was here, he’d hardly thought of much of anything before marching himself over here. But still, now that he's in the room, Louis did begin to wonder where Harry was, it’s always been rare for him to leave Avery’s side, probably even more so now that she’s awake again. But it’s just like him to go out in the middle of the night only to satisfy his daughter’s random midnight munchies.

“That’s quite a lot of really’s for one sentence.” Louis notes, still smiling warmly.

“Nope.” Avery disagrees with a small shake. “It’s just the right amount of really’s.”

“If you say so.” Louis laughs a little, toying with the open tie of his gown nervously. “Um…anyway...I just wanted to stop by and say hi—”

“Come in! Come in!” Avery beckons excitedly, using all her strength to sit up in her bed as she gestures her hands animatedly. “Come talk to me!”

“Well...uh...I can’t right now.” Louis answers slowly, still stationed at the doorway.

With that Avery’s entire face falls and Louis’ heart falls right along with it. “Why not?”

Louis scratches the back of his neck, attempting to avoid constant eye contact. “I…just…I’ve got to do...um…things and I…”

“Louis, _please_.” Avery begs gently, her eyes impossibly warm. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

_it’s been forever for me too, love_

Louis stays quiet, feeling his resolve crumbling right before his eyes. He feels the exact same way she does and it’s torturous to hold himself back. It feels stupid now, pointless to try and distance himself from her as he planned. He should know better from when he tried to do the same thing months back at their first meeting. Louis was powerless then and he’s even more powerless now, he could never keep himself away from Avery no matter how much he tries to rationalize it to himself.

“Pretty please.” Avery pouts, poking her bottom lip out pitifully. “Louis, I really, really, really, _reeaallyy_ miss you.”

_you have no idea how much i’ve missed you_

“Ok.” Louis concedes slowly, giving her another small smile. “But only for a little bit.”

Avery’s expression splits back into her gorgeous, dimpled smile and Louis is so drawn to her. Just being around her lifts his spirits, causing him to yet again question how he ever thought he could avoid her. She pats his usual spot on her bed, motioning for him to sit by her.

The second Louis sits down, Avery throws her small arms around his neck, burying her face against his chest to greet him properly. “Hi Louis!”

“Hi Aves.” Louis smiles fondly, lifting his arms to hug her back and as he holds her to his chest, his whole body seems to radiate with a sudden warmth he hasn’t felt in awhile. And it’s the most purifying sensation, like for that one moment, all of his aching wounds are miraculously mended.

Avery lifts her head to look up at him. “I’ve never seen you wear glasses before.”

“Like them?” Louis wonders, knowing that she loves to give approval on any and all fashion choices.

She pauses for a moment, squinting her eyes as she apparently takes in Louis’ new look. “Hmm…yeah, I think so.” Avery decides, moving her head around to study his face from different angles and Louis can’t hold back his amused laughter. “It goes with the rest of your doctor outfit.”

“What a relief!” Louis sighs dramatically, placing a hand to his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t approve.”

Avery giggles, beaming up at him. “Oh! Before I forget, I wanted to make sure that I tell you thank you for my gift.” She offers her wrist to him, proudly showing off the gold, charmed bracelet Louis’ gave her for her birthday. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I never ever wanna take it off.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome, little love. I’m glad you like it.” Louis holds her extended hand for a moment. “I think it looks even more beautiful on you.”

Avery beams again at that, gazing admiringly at the gold bracelet. “I love it, especially this charm.” She points to the locket inscribed with her nickname, which holds the first ever picture taken of the two of them. “It’s like I’ll always have a little piece of you with me…” Avery looks down at it again in quiet awe. “Now I have to give you something too. Then you’ll have a piece of me to always have with you.”

Louis’ heart melts for the millionth time since setting foot in this room. “That’s very sweet, Aves but you don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to.” Avery insists adamantly. “I don’t know what it’ll be yet, but it’ll be a surprise. A really, really, really, _reeaally_ good surprise.”

“Well I’m sure that whatever it is, I’ll love it.”

“Louis, will you come to my belated birthday party?” Avery asks, looking up at him hopefully. “I mean…it’s not really a party because we’re in a hospital, but the nurses are throwing me a party...” And then something foggy and dreadfully misplaced falls over her features, uncharacteristically diming her expression. “Because I may not...well I mean it could be…um…”

Louis sadly already knows what she is struggling to say, and it pains him immeasurably even to think about, let alone say out loud. This very well may be the very last birthday Avery ever sees.

“Well that’s very nice of the nurses. Will there be cake?” Louis asks lightly, attempting to steer away from the downcast mood the conversation is heading towards.

“Of course there will be cake, silly.” Avery answers, brightening up a little.

“Good, because a party with no cake is no party at all.” Louis smiles, not allowing his own expression to falter. “When is it?”

“It’s tomorrow afternoon at four, I think—or actually 16:00 for you.”

Louis chuckles, a bit impressed that she’s picked up on the 24-hour clock in all her time spent here. “Oh, I’ll probably still be in surgery.”

Avery’s face once again falls just as it did before and Louis truly can not stand it. How this little girl has so much power over his emotions and consent is beyond him.

“But...um I’ll try to come over right after and stop by.” Louis offers, ready to say almost anything to wipe that defeated look off of her beautiful face. “How does that sound?”

“Really?” Avery peaks up shyly. “You will?”

At this point, Louis doesn’t care if he has to push his surgery all together, he will make it to Avery’s party. “Yes, really!” He smiles warmly, bopping her on the nose. “I won’t miss it.”

“Good. Oh! I had an idea earlier—well it’s not a new idea…I’ve had it for awhile, but then I forgot…but then I remembered again…but then I forgot and anyway! Do you want to hear it?” Avery asks, getting that same bubbling excitement back in her voice that Louis finds so lovable.

“Of course I want to hear it.” Louis smiles dotingly at her.

She grins again, as she sits up a bit more. “Ok, well I’ve noticed that your little surgery hat is especially boring.”

“My little surgery hat.” Louis giggles fondly at her description.  

“Yeah, that thing.” Avery points up to the scrub cap fasten to Louis’ head. “Yours is the boringest one I’ve ever seen ever. _Ever.”_

“And exactly how many have you seen?” Louis entertains, narrowing his eyes at her.

 _“Tons.”_ Avery emphasizes with wide eyes. “I’ve seen some with puppies and flowers and boats and all kinds of cool things. Like Dr. Horan has golf balls on his and Dr. Payne has a Batman one and then yours is just blue.” She scrunches up her nose to express how utterly disappointed she is and Louis thinks it’s the most endearing thing.

“It does its job though!” Louis defends, holding both hands to his capped head. “And what’s wrong with blue, anyway? It matches my ‘doctor outfit’, as you call it.”

“Mmm well, I think you should get a special one.” Avery decides.

“Alright and what do you think should be on it?” Louis asks, choosing to further entertain the conversation.

“Walruses.” Avery whispers, grinning up at him knowingly.

“Walruses…” Louis echoes softly, exhaling as he hangs his head down. Somehow saying that one seemingly innocent word summons such a devout heaviness over him, an emotional trigger he wasn’t quite expecting. The last thing he wants to do is start crying again, but he feels so impossibly heartbroken. Talking with his favorite girl like this again is everything his heart needed, but how many more of these moments will they have together?

And walruses— _god_ , walruses; such a random animal that isn’t all that random when it comes to him and Avery. He gave baby Avery her very first plush walrus all those years ago and for some reason she kept it as she began to grow up and it looped right back around and was the start of their first defining conversation together. Ordinarily walruses wouldn’t mean anything to Louis, but now they mean absolutely everything, the unexpected beginning of it all for the two of them.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDXFQofX918&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVv2IC_wpDMOii1W7mToEayQ&index=5)

“Louis?” Avery wonders gently.

“Hmm?” Louis slowly lifts his head back up, trying as best he can to keep a semblance of composure.

“What’s wrong?”

_everything…everything’s wrong_

“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.” Louis forces a smile that he knows falls horribly flat.

“Louis, you’re sad.” Avery worries, watching him closely as she seems to see right through him. “I know you’re sad, I can see it in your eyes.”

“I…” Louis inhales shakily, knowing that he can’t exactly hide it from her. There’s so much Louis could say, so much contributing to how he feels, but he just doesn’t know how to express it. Not without breaking right down into uncontrollable tears again. “I just really want to help you, Aves…and I…I…”

_all i want is to help you, but i don’t know how_

He rakes his fingers through his hair, shaking his head when no further words come to him. His eyes are starting to sting again and he feels that awfully familiar ache pulling tightly at his chest. So with everything left in him, Louis tries to breathe deeply. Inhaling and exhaling and hoping it passes. But how can it pass when at the root of it all Louis doesn’t have the slightest clue what his next move should be. He has not a single idea or inkling about how he can treat her or what he can do to even begin slowing down the effects her tumor is sure to take hold.

Fuck, and he feels so frustratingly _useless_ —he’s trained under brilliant minds and he’s published groundbreaking theories, he’s been honored and recognized for his work on numerous occasions, he’s become one of the best in his field and yet despite all that…he’s still powerless to save the one person who would make any of that mean something. This can’t be the end for her, this can’t be all her life amounts to. This can’t be the end of her story. It can’t.

Louis can’t imagine his life without Avery anymore. He can’t imagine a world where she doesn’t exist. Whether he is able to be actively apart of her life or not, Louis wants her to be able to live, live her very best life. Even if he never got to see her again, even if she is never his, knowing that she’s alive and well and _happy_ somewhere, living the carefree life a little girl should be living, that would be more than enough for him. God, it would be so much more than enough.

“Hey.” Avery reaches over and slips her small hand into Louis’, giving it a warm little squeeze in reassurance. She’s never been one to miss a single thing, always so intuitive, and there’s no way she doesn’t know that Louis is on the verge of tears. “Wanna know a secret?”

Louis tilts his head at her, managing a marginal smile. “What’s that, love?”

“I’m not sad that I’m sick.” Avery tells him earnestly. 

“What?” Louis wonders in whispered confusion, features pulled into a frown as he runs his thumb gently across her hand.

“I’m sorry that it’s hurting my Daddy so much and that makes me really sad for him because I love him and I only want him to be happy…but I’m not sad for me.” Avery starts to explain, holding Louis’ gaze. “And the reason I’m not sad is because if I didn’t get sick, then I never would have gotten to meet you again.”

Louis breathes in heavily, eyes impossibly wide behind the lenses of his glasses. He is truly without words, feeling his heart swell, threatening to burst from the confines of his chest.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think and I’ve decided that I think that everything happens for a reason, you know? It’s like…well…” Avery pauses to think to herself for a second. “It’s kinda like this…my Daddy tells the worst jokes sometimes—like really, really _reeaallly_ bad. But even his worst jokes have a punchline...there’s always a point to them, even if it’s lame. And sometimes I don’t get the point because I’m stuck thinking about how really not funny his joke is. But even when I don’t get his jokes, it doesn’t mean there wasn’t a point to them. So I think it’s all about how you look at things. Even when it’s really bad and I’m stuck thinking about how it doesn’t really make sense or it isn’t fair…there’s always a reason. And sometimes it’s a good reason, even if I can’t see it yet.” She explains slowly, as though she’s still processing it in her mind. “But I think I can see it this time and you’re my good reason, Louis.”

“It’s not very fun being sick, it’s scary and it doesn’t feel good, but you were here for me—you’re always here for me. And…you mean so much to me, Louis.” Avery confesses genuinely, looking up at him with tears forming under her hazel eyes. “I know that I’m going to get a lot worse and there’s not a lot you can do about that and that’s gonna make it scarier, but…I still know that I’ll be ok because I have you and even when I’m scared, you always make me brave.” 

Louis feels the recently familiar sensation of tears pooling under his eyes, already starting to stream down his face and he doesn’t waste another moment before pulling her right back to his chest, cradling Avery’s head against him. “No Avery, it’s you that makes me brave, love…it’s you…”

“So let’s be brave then. Together.” Avery whispers against his scrubs, both arms wrapped around Louis’ middle. “I’ll be brave for you and you be brave for me. Just like with the needles, remember?”

“Yeah...” Louis answers faintly, tears silently falling. He rests his cheek down to the top of her head. Louis doesn’t know how this girl got so brave, but he knows it can’t be because of him. There’s something inside of her that’s inherently brave, intrinsically fearless and it calls to him to be better, _braver_.

Avery sniffles, pulling back enough to meet Louis’ gaze again. “So from now on we are only going to be brave. Deal?”

Louis takes in a deep breath, nodding his head. “Deal.”

He can be brave for her. If not for himself, Louis can always summon the strength to brave any and every thing for Avery.

And Louis knows more than anything else, that he can’t lose her. He can’t—he won’t survive it. He doesn’t care what kind of extraordinary measures he has to go through, he doesn’t care how much it might cost, he doesn’t care if he has to jump through countless hoops, he doesn’t care if he has to risk his entire reputation or what kind of damage might come to his medical career in the fallout. He is going to save this little girl, even if it’s the very last thing he ever does.


	13. thirteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtqismXZQ274PRZ6HkHwll3) for thirteen and fourteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi loves! :)
> 
> so please accept the biggest apology from me! i've been so busy and its been literally forever since the last update, thank you all for being so patient! and I'm please to tell you that i got two chapters done so yay! i hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> love lex .x

_please take my broken heart in your hands._

 

||☤||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i2CN5IXlIcc&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtqismXZQ274PRZ6HkHwll3&index=1)

By the time Louis finally leaves the hospital and gets home that night, it’s hardly even night anymore. He collapses right into bed, utterly exhausted, but despite how worn out his body feels, he lies frustrated and restless in his bed. And after several stretched out hours of constant tossing and turning, only finding a few minutes of fleeting sleep here and there, Louis’ alarm begins to go off.

Louis groans heavily, lying motionless on his back as he stares up at the ceiling fan. He feels like calling in sick; because if he can’t quiet his mind long enough to fall asleep, if he can’t focus on such a simple, brainless task, how the fuck is he supposed to focus on his practice throughout the day? He’s probably called off sick a total of four times since he started working at SSMC and the majority of those instances were recently. And he’s really not trying to make a habit out of it; it’s just that his entire body feels as weighted down as a slab of lead and the internal motivation he usually relies on to make it through the duration of the day is dwindling faster than he can find a suitable way to restore it.

So after lying immobile in his bed for another thirty minutes, too drained to even turn his alarm off, Louis decides to push all of his scheduled surgeries for the day. None of them are emergent anyway, so they can easily be rescheduled for tomorrow or any other day for all Louis cares. Any day that’s not fucking today. Louis has never been so _over_ everything and as much as he wants to shake himself from this perpetual funk he’s in, he has no earthly idea how.

Well—he does. Louis knows exactly what would make him feel worlds better faster than the blinking of an eye. But that’s just it, what Louis so desperately needs to happen, he doesn’t know how to make happen, how to turn his jumbled hopes and inconclusive ideas into action to save the little girl who completely governs his heart.

Using the last surge of short-lived motivation he has left, Louis decides to still go into the hospital, but only with the intention of locking himself in the research lab to devote all the brainpower he can manage into mapping out some kind of treatment plan options for Avery. At least that way he’s still making himself useful, and maybe today will finally be the day that he makes real headway on her diagnosis.

Before going in, Louis forces himself to also go on his routine run around his neighborhood, hoping to center himself at least somewhat. The ground is slick from the early morning rain and the grey sky is as dreary and depressing as Louis feels inside. But nonetheless, the run is good for him, clearing his head enough to give him a clean slate for the long day of research he has ahead.

Louis avoids everyone when he gets to the medical center, purposefully zooming past each and every nurses’ station, while also dodging all the places that he usually meets up with his friends for coffee in the morning. He even goes so far as to turn off both his pager and his phone to prevent potentially being interrupted or distracted.

Sitting at the farthest desk in the research lab, Louis dives right into a mountain of medical journals, reading through every archive and entry that is in any way related to the treatment of astrocytomas and gliomas. He doesn’t limit himself specifically to pediatric cases, figuring that a more likely route may be able to be adapted from an adult case study.

And although Louis has every intention of remaining focused, the biggest distraction turns out to be his own head, taunting him with ceaseless thoughts and cruel reminders. Most of all he thinks of Avery, her gentle words still dancing around in his head on a loop, holding him prisoner.

_you mean so much to me, louis…_

Louis tries to use the words flashing back in his mind to motivate him further, to fuel his determination that much more, but somehow they only seem to make his heart even heavier.

_you make me brave…_

He promised that he would be brave for her, he promised he would try, but it’s so hard, so unimaginably hard. He’s been studying and researching like a mad man, head buried deep in medical journals and clinical reviews, drug studies and surgical technique manuals, looking for something—fucking _anything_ that he can possibly use or adjust to save her. He’s made dozens of calls to neurologists and neurosurgeons around the globe asking for consults and advice, even going so far as to reach out to his mentor and friend, Dr. Carmichael. But nothing is clicking, nothing is viable, nothing will give Avery the chance at life she so greatly deserves and Louis is _scared_. He’s absolutely terrified that there actually may not be anything he can do, that the answers he is interminably searching for don’t exist.

_you’re my good reason…_

The more time that passes the more discouraged Louis gets, frazzled and frantic beyond belief. Unwilling to let the cancer win, unwilling to give up, but knowing that it’s growing more and more out of his control the longer he does nothing, the longer he knows nothing. And if he doesn’t begin to figure this out soon, Louis knows for a fact that it’s going to absolutely eat him alive from the inside out.

“Fuck!” Louis curses angrily in frustration, slamming down hard on the desk in front of him which causes a whirlwind of papers and notes to fly about the room. He weakly drops his head down to the surface, cheek resting on one of the journals uncomfortably. Louis allows his eyes to fall closed as he attempts to calm himself back down, focusing on his breathing because that’s really the only thing he can control right now.

He chances a glance at the the clock mounted on the wall to see that it’s fifteen minutes after four and that’s when Louis remembers about Avery’s little party put on by the nurses. He gradually rights himself back up, peeling off the post-it notes that somehow got stuck to his face before running a hand through his hair to fluff it back out. And although he’s not quite in the mood for a party, Louis knows he promised Avery and he would never break a promise to her; besides some time away from this stuffy lab would probably do him some good anyway.

The party is only a small gathering made up majorly by SSMC staff members, but that doesn’t matter at all because it puts the most beautiful smile on Avery’s face, especially when she sees Louis, absolutely delighted by his presence.

Niall, Liam, and Zayn show up too, not that Louis asked them to, he hasn’t even spoken to them all day. But they know just how much Avery means to Louis and through small interactions here and there over the passing months, they’ve each developed a relationship with her. They even bring her birthday gifts, Liam and Zayn bring her an extensive bracelet making set, complete with thousands of colorful beads for her to make when she gets bored and Niall brings her an entire collection of musicals on DVD, knowing that she loves to sing along to them. Avery is thrilled by all of it, of course, and she gives them each the biggest thankful hugs.

There is actually cake it turns out, cupcakes specifically. Nurse Julie ordered them from a specialty bakery so they all look like cute little ladybugs. Avery loves it, maybe even a bit too much because she doesn’t want to eat them because they’re apparently far too pretty. She does eventually though, after they all sing happy birthday to her.

And after the party is all said and done, Louis excuses himself right back to the lab, determined to find a solution even if it kills him. He’s hardly aware of the time passing yet again, completely absorbed in trying to find an answer in the lines of perpetual medical text he’s reading through. And the next time he checks the time he’s only slightly surprised to see that its already 4:30 A.M.

Disappointed by all the progress he didn’t make, Louis stretches, letting out a long yawn before deciding to head to the attendings’ lounge. The coffee in the lounge is usually utter shit, but Louis is far too tired and lazy to walk to the café across the street or even to the opposite wing of the hospital where the coffee cart is. So instead he pours himself a cup of that shit coffee and plops himself down on one of the couches along the wall.

“You’re here early.” Niall says as he walks into the empty attendings’ lounge, a tray of fresh coffee cups in hand. “Are you really drinking _lounge_ coffee?” He scrunches up his face in clear disgust and wastes no time in swapping out Louis’ cup for the quality brew that he brought from the café, bless him. “You’re worth so much more than that.”

Louis grins up at him faintly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Die of food poisoning obviously.” Niall laughs lightly, taking his own cup out of the tray and setting the other two down on the table for Liam and Zayn. “Is there a reason why you’re here so early? I thought I was the only one of us here on-call last night.”

“I never left.” Louis sighs heavily, head thrown back against the couch. There was no point in going home, it’s not like he’d be able to sleep there either. It’s basically been three solid nights since he’s had a decent night’s sleep. And honestly, what constitutes _decent_ is a relative concept at this point.

“Late night surgery?”

Louis shakes his head slowly, righting himself on the couch as he pushes one of his hands through his hair. “I was researching treatment strategies for Avery.” He drops his head down, blowing out a defeated, dejected sigh. “Not that I’m even getting anywhere...”

Niall comes to sit down next to Louis on the couch, setting his cup down on the coffee table in front of them. “Hey Lou, about the other night…I’m really sorry I wasn’t there for you. Liam told me what happened.”

Louis lifts his gaze and finds the same exact look that all of his friends have been giving him lately. He shrugs his shoulders a little, managing a slight smile as he shakes his head. “Oh, don’t worry about it, Ni. It’s ok…I’m ok…”

_as ok as i’ll ever be_

Niall nods gradually but still wraps his closest arm around Louis, pulling him to his side. And Louis goes easily, of course he does, he’s in no place to turn down any kind of comfort at this point.

“I’m sorry about Avery…” Niall whispers to him, maintaining his consoling hold around Louis’ shoulders. “It must be so hard to watch her go through this.”

Louis lifts head back up to him and this time shakes his head at a complete loss, feeling so small and brokenhearted. “God, I don’t know what to do...” Because really what is there to do when he can’t accept defeat, but also can’t afford to be defeated. “I hate feeling this…helpless...”

“I still think you’ll figure it out, Lou…you always do.” Niall rubs Louis’ back in slow, soothing motions.

“But what if I don’t?” Louis searches Niall’s eyes seriously. “She’s going to run out of time, Niall. The clock is always ticking against her…but I…I just can’t give up on her either—but what if it’s all too late? What if there’s really nothing I can do?”

“When’s the last time you slept?” Niall asks concern, brow pulled together as he seems to consider Louis completely.

Louis just shrugs dismissively, breaking eye contact.

“Louis, go home.” Niall practically orders, sounding fiercely protective over him.

“It won’t help Niall, I can’t sleep. I just lie there and nothing happens…nothing fucking happens.”

“But you aren’t going to get anything done here until you do.” Niall insists. “Lou, you look exhausted.”

And he is exhausted. In every possible sense of the damned word. There are only so many miracles caffeine can work before it’s completely run its course. And for Louis that time passed hours ago, maybe even days ago. His eyes are practically burning and he almost feels delirious with sleep deprivation.

“At least promise me you won’t operate on anyone like this. I will literally report your ass, don’t test me.” Niall smiles a bit, but there is a layer of seriousness underneath it that Louis knows not to mess with.

Louis smirks through a heavy yawn. “Not if I report myself first.”

 

||✚||

 

Although Harry came home with the intention of getting some sleep, he finds himself unsurprisingly restless. The nurses essentially banded against him— _again_ and forced him out, claiming he looked worse than ever. Which is sort of a constant for him now, this is just how he looks at this point. And ordinarily he wouldn’t leave Avery, but even she begged him to go home, worried over the fact that he clearly hasn’t slept since she woke up.

But it’s not because he doesn’t want to sleep or better yet, _need_ to sleep, it’s that he can’t—not without facing his greatest fear. See, there’s a dream Harry keeps having, not so much a dream really, but a nightmare, a cruel, cruel nightmare that haunts him every time he dare close his eyes. It’s virtually the same every time, he’ll be standing alone in an empty hospital hallway, walking up to a specific room, but for some reason unable to actually go inside. And each time, Avery is there inside that same room on her bed as she normally would be. He can see her clearly from the window outside the room and she’ll smile and wave at him, but then her face suddenly stills and she starts to seize erratically.

And it’s all so realistic, vivid, like he’s seen it before—he _has_ seen it before. Except this time Harry can’t get to her. There’s no one to help her and there’s no way to save her, so he’s left banging against the glass of the window, screaming her name incessantly, calling out to her until his voice gives out. And when she flatlines, all he can do is watch it happen.

If he doesn’t wake up from that screaming, then he’s gasping for breath while shivering in a cold sweat with a pain in his heart so great, it feels as though it wasn’t actually a nightmare, but a reality.

So yeah, he can’t sleep. Bless the hearts of the nursing staff for wanting him to rest, but Harry is in no way going to fall asleep, despite how horribly tired he feels.

Instead of sleeping, Harry does a bit of spring cleaning, figuring that at the very least, he should make himself useful. In order to effectively move on with his life, he needs to clean out every single item of his ex-fiancé’s. Nothing puts Harry in a worse mood than coming home—to _his_ house and seeing lingering remnants of Jesse scattered around. Everywhere he looks around his home, all Harry can see now are all the potential places Jesse could have fucked someone else on. Maybe he did or maybe he didn’t, either way Harry fucking hates it and thus decides that sanitizing every available surface in his house is probably slightly more realistic than just setting the entire thing on fire and never looking back.

And that’s how Harry comes to spend the entire night cleaning, using it as a welcome distraction from the dark thoughts in his head. He busies himself by packing all of Jesse’s stuff away, every last thing until there are absolutely no traces of him anywhere in the house.

By the time Harry gets done, it’s nearing 7 A.M., so he unblocks his ex-fiancé’s number and sends a very brief, distant text to Jesse telling him that he can come over and pick up his junk. He’s lucky Harry is kind enough to give his crap back to him; he could very easily trash it or burn it or do some good and donate it. But honestly having countless reminders of Jesse all over his home was worse than having to see him one last time and giving his shit back is slightly easier than having to find some way to get rid of it.

Harry is just putting back the last of the boxes he pulled out of the closet, when he notices a small box nestled in the very back corner. He gets down on all fours and crawls under the hanging clothes above to reach it, dragging it out into the light to inspect it further.

But as soon as it’s completely out in the open, Harry gasps outright, dropping the box down to the carpeted floor, instantly recognizing it.

 _gemma_.

It’s the box she left for him and Avery before she died. The box he refused to open and refused to even look at for the past nine years. Just the sight of it alone causes Harry to begin tearing up, transporting his conscious mind all the way back to the day Gemma gave it to him. He runs his fingers along the lid, brushing away the dust to see his and Avery’s names inscribed by Gemma’s lovely handwriting. He can only stare at it, holding the forgotten box in his lap, daring himself to finally open it.

_what’s the worst that could possibly happen?_

And although it’s probably irrational and completely illogical, he almost expects something to jump right out at him. As if whatever is contained by this box poses such a threat to his well-being, to his last thread of sanity. But that’s ridiculous and he knows it, so he fights to calm his racing heart, and with shaky hands and stuttered deep breaths, Harry slowly lifts the lid of the box.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nh7uDRVLtFQ&index=2&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtqismXZQ274PRZ6HkHwll3)

Harry sets the lid down to the side and leans in to inspect the contents of the box. There’s not much inside, except for three sealed envelopes. One with Harry’s name on it, another with Avery’s and finally one for Louis.

Although he thought he’d successfully calmed his racing heart down, it’s now beating faster than ever before as he unsteadily picks up the envelope with his name on it. He doesn’t want to send himself into some form of panic attack alone in his closet, so Harry takes several minutes just to breathe, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tries to centralize control over his body.

_you’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok…_

Once he’s begun to marginally ground his irregular breathing, Harry gradually forces himself to open the envelope, pulling out a long handwritten letter. There are small, dried, droplet shaped marks along the page that can only be identified as tearstains and Harry can already feel himself losing it yet again, but he forces his eyes to focus on the words before him.

_My darling baby brother,_

_You know how when we were kids we always thought we were invincible? We’d convinced ourselves that nothing could touch us if we stayed together. It seemed like just thinking that made us fearless somehow, made us braver than we actually were and got us through the hardest of times. I miss those days when we were younger, when things were easier._

_But now, I’m writing this to you with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes because if I know anything, I know that you’re angry right now. Fucking pissed, I know. And you have every right to be, to be honest I would be too if I were you. It’s not fair, it’s never once been fair and I’m so sorry, Harry. I never thought anything could ever tear us apart, I guess I never stopped pretending that we were invincible even after we grew up._

_But H, even though we might not be as invincible as we thought, I want you to know how much I believe in you. You are so much stronger than you think you are, Harry. I know you always thought that you relied on me, but really I rely on you in every single way. I’d be lost without you because you ground me, H, you and your sweet, kind spirit. You have always been my favorite person, the person I need most in the world._

_I know you don’t want to, and you never have before, but you can survive without me and you will. It’ll be hard at first, I know. But please never give up, please don’t lose yourself in all the grief you’ll feel for me. Promise me you’ll live your life Harry, that you’ll go after what you want. That you won’t let this bring you down forever, that you won’t hold anger in your heart forever. Let it go, H. Please let it go. Be happy, fall in love, let yourself be loved. You’re so young, baby brother. You have so much to look forward to and even though I won’t be there to see it, I’m so excited for you, for all your life will become. There’s better for you, I know it in my heart. This isn’t the end for you and you shouldn’t let what’s happened to me dictate your whole life. Don’t give it the power. I know you and I know how you hold onto things and let it eat you alive, but don’t Harry, please for me, don’t._

_You’re a father now and I know this isn’t how you expected to become a parent—you never asked for this and in so many ways your life is about to be completely derailed and I’m sorry for that, you have no idea how truly sorry I am, Harry. I never meant to hurt you and I never meant to put you in this situation and you have every reason to be upset. I wish I could change things, I wish I could make it better because I know how scared you must be, but I have every last faith in you. In who you are as a person and in the father you’ll grow to be. And although it’s not what either of us wanted, I truly believe good can still come out of this. I won’t be around to see it, but you will and she will and that’s all that matters to me._

_I love you, Harry, with my entire heart, always and forever._

_Gemma xx_

_p.s._ _I’ve recorded a video for Avery, it’s in the envelope with her name on it. Play it for her someday when she needs it, I trust you’ll know when that is._

_I love you._

Harry’s hands are shaking by the time he finishes his sister’s letter, trembling so much that he’s hardly able to maintain his grip on the worn paper that now has more tearstains of his own.

Harry hugs the letter to his chest, close to his rapidly pounding heart, shutting his eyes against his heavily falling tears. He’s missed her, fuck, has he missed her. And it feels good to finally admit that, to finally find acceptance in it. For so long he’s avoided her, hiding his sister away in the furthest parts and darkest untouched corners of his mind.

And staring down at his letter and the box it came from, Harry begins to realize the true extent of his avoidance. Nine years he’s had this box, nine years he’s had this last lingering piece of closure directly from his sister and he continually pushed it away. Now all this time has passed him by and for what exactly? He feels so foolish for avoiding this for so long, but whether it makes any sense or not, he knows exactly why he did it.

Harry knows that he never properly handled his grief for Gemma because unfortunately, running from grief, from sadness, from heartbreak is not at all the same as dealing with it. By not coming to understand his sorrow and grow from his grief, Harry never allowed himself the chance to lay his feelings to rest as he should have. He never had peace over what happened, so he could never even speak of it. The wound perpetually felt just as fresh as the day it was inflicted.

But maybe it’s time now. Perhaps now is the time for Harry to rip off the proverbial Band-Aid and begin to fully let go and embrace her again. Embrace all that his sister was to him, all she ever meant.

Even in her very last days Gemma thought of him, furthermore she _believed_ in him. She had so much faith in him and she saw a potential in him that he couldn’t even see in himself and now Harry feels like he failed her in so many ways. All this time he’s found a way to justify not speaking of her. He’s been trying to erase her, erase everything about her in an attempt to move on. It was easier that way, less attached, less painful…but Avery needs her, she needs her mother, needs that connection with her. And Harry has effectively robbed her of that. He didn’t mean to do it, he swears he didn’t, he would never purposely do something to cause his daughter any extra pain. But it seems as though by sparing himself pain, he has indirectly pained her anyway.

Harry hardly knew his mother, passing away before he formed any identifiable memories about her, but everyday as a kid he so wished that he did. He would daydream about what she might have been like, begging Gemma to tell him every last thing she remembered about her, always looking for clues of who she was. It’s only natural really, to want to know who your parents are, to want to find some kind of connection to them, figure out pieces of who you really are. Not having that connection took a heavy toll on Harry, he could never say it didn’t. He struggled with it for many years through his adolescence and Harry would never wish that same frustrating confusion and longing on Avery.

He can’t do that to her, he can’t let her go on wondering endlessly about her mum, starved for any information about her. Not when he has all the answers she needs. There’s no reason for her to have to go through that same emptiness he did as a child. Because even though he eventually grew up and matured without the love of his mum, that hollow place remained in his heart, held together by the little things he does know about her. Like how he apparently has his mother’s warm smile and her love of all things floral. And based on the vinyl records she owned, the two of them share the same taste in music. She spent a lot of time in the kitchen, not because she had to, but because she enjoyed it, finding a simple comfort in baking as Harry too often does. He knows she was gentle and kindhearted, led by a patient, loving soul, and she was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the out.

The little things, however small and minor they may be, still connect Harry to his mother in some way or another and he wants his daughter to have that too. He wants her to have so much more than that and she still can, it’s not too late.

Harry picks up the envelope with Avery’s name written across it neatly, gazing down at it intently as he similarly did with his own. Once again he almost feels like he is waiting for something to jump right out at him. But the only thing that jumps is Harry himself it turns out, as he is startled by the sudden ringing of the doorbell. He places a hand over his beating heart, closing his eyes momentarily as he tries to catch his breath. He forgot all about Jesse the second he found Gemma’s box again, but Harry will have to deal with the rest of it later. He careful sets down Avery’s envelope, swiping at his still teary eyes. The last thing he needs is Jesse to think he was in any way crying over him or any other bullshit.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8VRuxhc6zSY&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtqismXZQ274PRZ6HkHwll3&index=3)

“Coming!” Harry calls, scrambling to his feet as he rubs his eyes dry—red, but dry. He takes his time as he descends down the staircase with two packed suitcases and a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. And before he opens the door, he makes sure that his tears are completely settled, at least until he can get rid of his ex.

“Harry.” Jesse smiles hopefully as Harry opens the door. “It’s so good to see you.”

Harry doesn’t at all wish he could say the same, seeing Jesse for the first time since they broke up is hardly a welcomed experience on his end. Especially when there are so many better and more deserving things he could be doing with this time. Harry can hardly gather his thoughts right now, so he definitely doesn’t have the time or patience for pleasantries, so instead he shoves a duffle bag in Jesse’s arms and rolls the two suitcases out onto the porch. “That’s all of it. The suitcases are mine, but you can just keep them. I really don’t care.”

“Erm…thanks.” Jesse looks caught off guard by how cold Harry is being, but how could he possibly expect anything more? This is not a social visit, Jesse was only invited here so Harry can have peace of mind again in his own home without seeing his ex’s shit all over the place.

Harry nods once and moves to close the door in Jesse’s face without another word. He’s barely present in the moment, still thinking of his sister and the words of her letter.

“Harry, wait!” Jesse calls, dropping the bag to the floor by his feet. “Can we please just—”

“No. I don’t want to talk, Jesse.” Harry interrupts firmly, body tense. “Just take your shit and go.”

“Harry, I—look, you have every right to be mad at me. What I did was wrong on so many levels.” Jesse admits solemnly, hanging his head. “But I really think we should at least talk about this, you can’t just throw away our four years together just like that.”

Harry snorts loudly, rolling his eyes. Jesse practically breathes hypocrisy and it makes Harry nauseated. As if Harry was the one who threw their relationship away. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“But…baby I miss you.” Jesse tries in a soft voice, moving that much closer to Harry as he meets his eyes in longing.

“Oh, I’m sure you do. How’s Chris, by the way? Give him my best for me, will you? Thanks.” Harry offers the most disingenuously sarcastic smile as he once again begins to close the door.

“Chris doesn’t mean anything to me, I swear. You’re the only man for me, babe.” Jesse claims, sounding more and more desperate as he tries unsuccessfully to get through to Harry. “We belong together, we’re so good together, Harry. It was just one mistake. One stupid mistake and I’m so sorry…I swear to you it will never happen again. I love you and you love me—”

“I don’t love you.” Harry blurts instinctually, words flying out of his mouth quicker than he can process them. It comes out kind of harsh, but Harry wouldn’t dare take it back. It’s the truth, and they were never even that good together. Not communication wise, or even going by basic compatibility, not in their morals or values, and to be completely honest, their relationship was hardly notable sexually. “I don’t. I don’t even know if I ever really loved you.”

Jesse looks affronted, mouth falling open. “How can you say that after all we’ve been through?”

“Been through?” Harry scoffs, nearly laughing at the cruel ridiculousness of his words. “Are you being serious right now? You and I haven’t been through shit and you know it. You were hardly there when  _I_ went through hell.”

Jesse blinks back at Harry, again taken aback by his words. He searches his eyes for a moment before nodding his head with some sort of understanding. “Oh, but he was right? Louis?”

Harry doesn’t offer any sort of response to that, instead choosing to break eye contact in favor of looking down at the floor.

“That’s what you wanted to say, isn’t it.” Jesse presents what should be a question as an entitled statement and it makes Harry’s blood start to boil.

“Goodbye, Jesse.” Harry answers, moving to close the door before he loses it completely and blows up in Jesse’s face.

“What…are you…” Jesse frowns skeptically. “Are you in love with him? _Really_?”

Harry looks up then and narrows his eyes at his ex-fiancé. “Leave.”

“Oh my god, you are. Of course you are. It all makes sense.” Jesse takes a step back and nods slowly. “You love him. This whole time you’ve loved him over me. I picked up everything and moved to Seattle for you and you only came here for him. You lied to me this entire time.”

“I didn’t lie to you.” Harry defends, feeling his jaw clench up. He didn’t move back to Seattle for Louis, he moved back for his career and his family security. As obvious as it should have been, Harry didn’t know how he felt about Louis before, he was just confused and conflicted and stupid. But he certainly knows now and there is nothing Jesse could do or say that would change that and Harry just wants him gone. “I have to get back to the hospital.”

“This isn’t over for us, Harry.” Jesse pushes again in persistence. “I want you back and I—”

“No! No! It is over, Jesse! It fucking is!” Harry snaps, whipping around angrily at the audacity of his ex-fiancé’s words. He is done being reserved. He is done being civil. It’s obviously not working, so there’s no point in holding back anymore. “You really have some nerve—I don’t have to stand here and entertain your bullshit!”

“Harry—”

“No, stop! Please for the love of god, spare me any more of your fucking excuses. I have too much going on as it is and if you really cared about me, you’d maybe start by, oh I don’t know—asking how I’m doing or how my daughter is doing instead of coming to me with the same old shit.” Harry bites, holding nothing back. “So no, you can’t have me back, you know why? Because you  _cheated_ on me! You broke my fucking heart! And for the record, how I may or may not feel about Louis is none of your goddamn business. You chose someone else—you _fucked_ someone else, so you aren’t entitled to know anything about me and my life anymore. You made your bed, now fucking lie in it. I don’t want you, I don’t love you, we are over. There will never be an ‘us’ again.”

And with that said, Harry doesn’t wait for Jesse to respond or react, instead he slams the front door closed, determined never to look back again.

 

 

||☤||

 

Louis is dragging. His feet are dragging, his mind is dragging, everything about him is _dragging_. But what can he realistically expect after the accumulating lack of rest he’s been stacking up? But then again, how can he rest and sleep peacefully when there is still a giant, taunting question mark over Avery’s life? It’s a cycle Louis can’t possibly break, so he helplessly remains a slave to it.

Needing a little pick-me-up, or any kind of mood booster, Louis heads to one of his favorite places on the SSMC grounds, the gift shop.

“Dr. T, is everything ok?” Carrie asks from behind the counter as he walks into the shop. It doesn’t take long for even her to notice how dreadful he looks and her face wrinkles with concern. “You seem a little off today…”

“Oh yeah…just uh tired…” Louis mumbles quietly, shrugging a bit.

“Long day?”

_long week…long month…long fucking year_

“Yeah…” Louis nods, sighing to himself as he runs a hand through his hair. As much as he adores Carrie, he doesn’t even feel like chatting with her as he usually enjoys doing. It requires an energy he realizes that he doesn’t at all have.

But Carrie seems to pick up on it and she hands Louis two packets of Skittles without him needing to even ask. She must have had them just waiting up there by the register, anticipating that he would eventually stop by. And it touches Louis’ heart that she would think of him like that.

“I hope your day gets better, Dr. T.” Carrie smiles warmly at him and Louis can tell that she genuinely cares.

“Thank you, Carrie.” Louis grins back softly as he already begins to head back towards the door. “I hope you have a good day as well.”

And as chance would have it, as Louis is leaving the shop he runs into Harry— _literally_ collides right into him, accidentally dropping his candy to the ground in all the commotion of it. He hasn’t spoken to him seriously since the last time they accidentally bumped into each other. They hardly interacted whatsoever at Avery’s birthday thing, carefully dodging each other’s orbits the entire time. Louis wouldn’t admit that he’s purposely been actively avoiding Harry for the past few days, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Louis has been avoiding the unnerving look in Harry’s eyes, avoiding that unsettling charge that never fails to spark between them. Yet here they are, fucking bumping into each other in this huge, impossibly spacious, multistory hospital. Again.

“We have _got_ to stop meeting like this.” Louis bravely tries to joke, going for a small smile. But it must fall horribly flat because Harry hardly returns his smile, seeming to look right through Louis as though in some sort of daze. “Sorry, um…anxious humor, I suppose. It’s not really all that funny…”

Harry blinks, shaking himself out a bit as he seems to attempt to refocus. “Oh—I’m sorry—I’m uh…?” He bends down to pick up the packets of candy he caused Louis to drop. “Skittles?”

“Oh yeah…” Louis nods slightly, taking the candy back and stuffing them into his lab pockets. “Probably 90% of my daily caloric intake comes from Skittles, if I’m honest. Not great, I know but, what can I say? They have the best candy.”

“The gift shop?” Harry frowns, glancing at the store behind Louis briefly.

“Yeah, yeah…like, in the whole hospital. That’s a little insider tip for you. The cafeteria’s supply is shit, just saying.”

“Good to know.” Harry nods, albeit a bit hazily, like his mind continues to wonder elsewhere without his consent.  

Louis frowns, immediately sensing something unusually off about him. His eyes are puffy and lined in bright red, and he looks exhausted—actually Harry looks just as exhausted as Louis does. And it makes Louis wonder when the last time he slept was. “Are you alright, Harry?”

“No, yeah, yeah…I’m…I’m good, yeah…” Harry nods in a way that isn’t even slightly believable. “I was just on my way to get some uh…coffee? But it’s actually um good that I caught you because I uh, I have something for you…”

“Me?” Louis frowns again, this time in surprise.

“Yeah…um Gemma left it for you…” Harry reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a sealed envelope with Louis’ name scripted across the front. “It’s late I’m sure…and I’m…I uh…I’m sorry. You should have had it years ago—I don’t have a proper excuse for that right now…but um…I’m sorry.”

Louis takes the envelope in his hand, staring down at it. If Gemma left Louis one, then she must have left one to Harry as well which would explain the impossibly dazed look on his face, like he’s seen a ghost. “Erm thank you…” He wants to ask more, ask if Harry’s alright, if Gemma’s letter triggered old emotions for him. There’s no way it didn’t, Harry’s spent all these years carefully avoiding confrontation with her, who knows how he’s taking all this now, especially combined with what’s going on with Avery.

Harry nods once, looking standoffish and distant. “I um…I gotta go…” He quickly turns on his heel in the opposite direction and he’s gone before Louis can say another word.

 

||✚||

 

Harry grabs a coffee at the cart on his way over to Avery’s room, ordering it with as many shots of espresso that’s legal for a single cup. Not like it will help, nothing will help him at this point. Nothing but getting back to his daughter. Although he takes his time walking through the hospital to get back to her room, thinking over how exactly he should go about all this. Sometimes Harry wishes there was a blueprint, a manual of some kind to help him navigate how he should go about things. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like he’s continually fucking up at every chance he gets.

“Morning, Munchie.” Harry greets with a gentle smile as he makes it to her room, hoping she won’t notice just how drained he actually is.

“Daddy, you don’t look like you slept at all.” Avery notes right away, small voice drenched in worry.

“Oh, but how can I possibly sleep without my baby next to me?” Harry leans in to kiss her forehead. “I was just so eager to come back to you, I couldn’t sleep. I missed my little munchkin too much.” He sits down on the bed next to her, cupping her face in his hand. “How are you, Avie? Are you feeling ok?”

Avery nuzzles her cheek to his palm and nods her head slowly, but Harry can tell she’s not feeling the best today. “I’m ok…my head hurts more today…”

“I’m sorry, honey. I know it hurts.” Harry pulls her close pressing more affectionate kisses to her head as if they can somehow heal her. The medication helps most days, but knowing she’s in constant pain and only being able to watch is the most unbearable thing about being a parent. The nurses tell him that the best way to help right now is to distract her, keep her occupied so that she’s not as focused on the growing pain. It’s not a solution by any means, but Harry tries his very best. Although today the distraction he has to offer her may cause her a different kind of pain. But he can’t put it off, Harry knows he can’t put it off any longer. Gemma said he’ll know when she needs it the most and even though he just rediscovered the envelope she left for her, Harry knows the time is now, because who knows how much time she’ll even have left?

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzNvk80XY9s&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtqismXZQ274PRZ6HkHwll3&index=4)

“Avie, baby…I need to talk to you about something. It’s about your mum.” Harry starts slowly, laying down beside her on the bed.

Avery sits up at that, all of her attention focused on Harry. “But you never talk about her.”

“I know.” Harry hangs his head regretfully, exhaling. “And I want to tell you how sorry I am for that, sweetheart. I am so sorry for keeping things about your mother from you, I know how confusing and frustrating that must be for you to go through, especially now…” He takes one of her hands in his, thumbing over her skin softly. “And I hope you know I’d never want to hurt you. That’s not an excuse but…I just…uh…well your mum meant so much to me, she was the only family I ever knew and when she passed away…I didn’t handle it very well.”

“It’s ok, Daddy…I know it was hard for you.” Avery squeezes her father’s hand in reassurance.

“No, but it’s not ok, Avie.” Harry shakes his head, needing her to understand. “Yes, it was hard for me…but I never should have let any of that come between your connection to her. I’ve distanced you from her because I wasn’t strong enough to face that time in my life, but I realize how wrong that was of me and you deserve so much better from me as your dad and…I’m just…I’m so sorry, baby.” He apologizes from deep down in his heart, feeling the sting of regretful tears burning at the corners of his eyes. “You should know who your mother was and we should be able to talk about her whenever you need to. So I promise that from now on, no matter what, I’m going to be honest with you...” He pulls Avery’s envelope out of his pocket, handing it over to her. “Starting with this.”

Avery takes it in her hands, gazing down at it in confusion. “What is it?”

“Um…well…your mother gave me a box before she died and inside was that envelope for you…” Harry explains to her. “I’ve had it since you were born…but I’ve never opened the box until today.”  

Avery continues staring down at the envelope, before looking back up curiously. “What made you open it today?”

“I don’t quite know, really.” Harry frowns to himself, brows pulled together. “I’d forgotten all about it—probably because I didn’t want to think about it…but I was cleaning out some things at home and I happened to find it again. I was scared to open it before—I was still scared even today, actually. But I’m trying not to run from things anymore…because I…I really want to be better for you, Avery.”

Avery smiles at him like she’s proud of him. “But you know I already think you’re the best Daddy in the world.”

Harry’s feels his heart melt, but he shakes his head, not at all feeling as though her sweet sentiments towards him can possibly be true after all he’s so regrettably done.

“No, but I’m serious, Daddy.” Avery insists in earnest. “You’ve always sacrificed everything for me and you always do everything you can just to make me happy. I know you love me and I know you care about me, otherwise you wouldn’t try as hard as you do for me. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, no one is perfect. You were hurting and you were sad and you were taking care of me all by yourself. That doesn’t make you selfish, not to me...”

“I love you so much, Avie.” Harry professes, letting his eyes fall closed as he hugs his daughter. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He peppers affectionate kisses to her forehead and he doesn’t know what he ever did to deserve a child as sweet and loving as her, but he couldn’t possibly be more grateful.

After Harry has released his hold on her, Avery turns her attention back to the envelope in her lap. “Do you know what’s inside?”

Harry nods slowly. “She recorded a video for you before she died.”

Avery stares down at the sealed envelope before slowly tearing it open carefully. She pulls out a tiny USB drive, holding it flat in her hand. “So you haven’t seen it?”

Harry shakes his head, watching her reaction closely. He can only imagine all the things that must be going through her mind right now, having never had any contact with her mother and hardly so much as a mention of her throughout Avery’s entire life thus far.

Avery looks at the flash drive uncertainly as though she’s a bit scared herself. “Can we watch it together?” She peeks her head up, hazel eyes gazing into his green ones. “You and me?”

“Yes, sweetheart, of course.” Harry promises, taking her hand and lifting her small palm to his lips. His daughter looks so incredibly nervous and terrified and although Harry feels similar, he knows as her parent he needs to step up and support her regardless of his own trepidations. “But Avery, no matter what’s on this, know that I’m here for you and I love you, I love you so very much ok, baby?”

She nods again, holding his hand tightly.

Harry had left his laptop with Avery because she likes to watch movies on it, so he grabs it from the bedside table and sets about pulling the video up. QuickTime Player opens when he clicks on the video icon and suddenly a frozen screencap of Gemma’s face is filling the MacBook display.

“She looks so much like you, Daddy.” Avery notices right away, gazing in fascination at the screen.

Harry nods faintly, feeling a wave of unexpected emotions splash over him. Just seeing a still of his older sister’s smiling face causes his breath to stop coming easily. He hasn’t so much as even looked at a picture of her since her funeral, it was too painful to think of her, to keep reminders of her around him. The only way he could move on was to forget and block out, but he can’t do that anymore, he _won’t_ do that anymore. Harry may not feel strong enough for this, but he has to be. For Avery. His daughter needs this.

_just breathe…in and out…in and out…_

“She’s so beautiful.” Avery awes softly, completely enraptured by the image of her gorgeous mother.

“Just like you.” Harry whispers, kissing her temple. “You look more and more like her every day. Sometimes when I look at you, all I see is her.”

And it’s true, Avery physically favors her mum in so many startling ways. From her wide dimpled smile to her light sprinkling of freckles peppering her face. The older she gets the more convinced Harry is that she is the spitting image of his late sister.

“Are you ready, Avie?” Harry asks, looking down at her.

Avery moves around a bit to get comfortable in Harry’s lap, rearranging his hands to wrap around her as she positions the MacBook atop her own lap. “Ok, I’m ready I think…”

“Ok—”

“Wait!” Avery stops him, placing her smaller hand over his. “Daddy, what if I’m not really ready?”

“That’s ok too, Munchie.” Harry reassures her, resting his chin against the top of her head. “You don’t have to be ready right now. But if you are, I’m here for you and if you’re not, I’m still here for you.”

Avery pulls Harry’s arms even tighter around her middle, seeming to feel safer the deeper she nestles herself in his embrace. So Harry pulls her in closer, as close as humanly possible, doing everything he can to make sure his baby is ok.

“As long as you’re with me then I’m ready.” Avery decides bravely.

“I’m not going anywhere, Avie.” Harry promises gently, reaching to click play on the laptop before he loses his own nerve and starts breaking down. This isn’t about him, it’s about his daughter and for her he would go to the very ends of the earth.

“Hi Avery, my darling.”

Harry’s heart instantly pangs at the long lost, but not ever forgotten sound of his sister’s voice. His eyes fall closed and his breathing nearly comes to a standstill yet again as time seems to do the same.

“Or at least I really hope your name is actually Avery…” Gemma furrows her brows together a bit. “Harry better not have fucked that up—oh I mean— _shit_.” Her eyes widen and she covers a hand to her mouth, shaking her head regrettably. “Oh ugh—I’m sorry Avery, don’t say those words, ok? God, I’m already making a horrible impression…I’m sorry.” Gemma laughs to herself, biting her lip as her cheeks flush a little in embarrassment. “I swear I’m not usually like this—or maybe I am? Who knows? Let’s just blame the cancer, it’s _always_ the bloody cancer’s fault.”

A reminiscently tearful smile makes its way to Harry’s face, pulling at his lips as he feels the odd comfort of his sister’s twisted humor warming his chest. Gemma was always trying to make light of her situation, ready with a quick witted joke or a snarky quip at a moment’s notice. And it may have annoyed Harry then, but he misses it so very much now. And hearing it again, Harry never realized how much Avery’s laugh sounds like Gemma’s; yet another thing to add to the list of always growing similarities.

“Well, to be perfectly honest…I don’t quite know exactly what I want to tell you. There’s so much to say…so much on my heart, but…how can I summarize a whole lifetime of advice in just this one moment…” Gemma shakes her head, sighing as her gaze falls down to her pregnant stomach. “I don’t know…but I’m just going to say whatever comes to mind first, so bear with me. Alright, love?”

Gemma is quiet for a very long moment, head bowed down sadly before she looks back into the camera with newfound tears lining her eyes. “I don’t want to leave you…” She whispers emotionally, both hands resting protectively around her swollen belly. “I love you so much, Avery. I hope you know that—I hope you know it and you feel it in your heart as strong as I do…I _love_ you.”

Avery breathes in heavily and Harry knows just how much she needed to hear that. Even if Harry told her from this day forward how much her mum loved her, it would have never had as much impact as hearing it straight from her mother’s lips. There are tears already forming in the ducts of Avery’s eyes, soon rolling down her soft cheeks. And Harry doesn’t quite know if they are sad or happy tears, but watching his little baby cry is like watching every good and pure thing be stripped from the earth. He presses his lips to the top of her head, only wanting to comfort her.

“You’re the love and light of my life. When I first heard your heartbeat I fell completely in love with everything about you.” Gemma smiles even though the tears from her eyes only grow stronger. “You’re a miracle, my beautiful, beautiful miracle. All I want is to finally hold you in my arms and feel your little fingers curl around mine. God, I want to meet you and kiss you and hug you and love you—it’s all I ever think about anymore. Don’t ever think that I didn’t want you—I knew from the very second I saw that tiny little picture of you on the ultrasound that I wanted you forever. I never wanted anything more. You’re everything to me, Avery and without even knowing it, you changed my life.”

Harry holds onto Avery tighter, feeling her start to sob heavily in his arms and his heart breaks for her as it simultaneously breaks for his sister. Gemma never had the right of every mother to simply hold her child, to feel that heartwarming sensation of her baby’s heart beating alongside hers. She was robbed of all the simple joys that come with motherhood and Harry never truly felt the gravity of what that really meant to her until now.

Fuck, and he’s been so _angry_ at her, harboring the misplaced feeling within himself all this time, unwilling to part with it, reluctant to let go and finally grieve. And although unintentional, in many ways Harry has allowed that anger more control than ever, to the point where he’s practically made an enemy out of Gemma in his mind. He shut her out, avoided so much as speaking her name, and it’s done far more damage than good in the long run.

“And with my whole heart I really wish we had more time together…I wish I could be there to watch you grow up and find yourself—discover your rightful place in the world.” Gemma holds both her hands over her bump again, softly rubbing slow circles over it. “And wherever that may be, I want you to always be confident in whoever you want to be, in whatever your dreams are. Never let anyone tell you your dreams are impossible, never give up on what you love, be fearless and be brave as much as you can. But know that it’s ok to be scared too sometimes, it’s ok to not always be ok. I don’t know what life has planned for you, but I know it won’t always be easy, it unfortunately never is. But never let the hard times diminish who you are, shine brighter instead, remember to love others and always, _always_ be kind.”

“My heart breaks thinking about all the things we will never be able to do together…but I’ll always be with you in some way, held in your heart. And I’m leaving my necklace for you…” Gemma touches a hand to the simple golden necklace laced around her neck. “It was the only thing I ever had of my mother’s and it only feels right to pass it on to you. It’s an A for Anne, but now it can also be an A for Avery. I kept it close to my heart wherever I went and although I barely remember her, I always feel her with me as long as I have this. So I hope when you wear it, you’ll always feel me too.”

Harry picks up the envelope from Avery’s lap and fishes the gold necklace out of the bottom. He recognizes it instantly, it never left Gemma’s neck from the time she put it on as a young girl close to Avery’s age. Harry is happy that Gemma left it for her, a physical way for Avery to connect to the strong, beautiful women in her family that came before her.

When Harry places the necklace in Avery’s palm, she holds it in both her hands as though it’s worth her entire weight in gold. She lifts it up and holds it close to her heart, fresh tears springing to her eyes.

“And Harry.” Gemma calls next, and Harry looks up at the screen not knowing if he is prepared to hear anything she has to say towards him. “Oh my sweet little brother, I know I’ve already written you a letter, but I know you’re watching too, so I want to tell you again how much I love you, H.” She smiles fully, eyes still shining. “You’re the best brother any girl could ever hope for and I’m glad I got stuck with someone as weird and strange as you my whole life.”

Harry smiles tearfully too, glad to hear his sister tease him once again. He’s missed their constant teasing of each other, the bickering and harmless sibling arguing they couldn’t help but engage in at every chance they got.

“Oh my god Harry, but _please_ don’t let my child grow up with your lame sense of humor.” Gemma pleads with a knowing smile and Harry immediately frowns in offense while Avery just laughs at him. “I’m not going to make requests on how you parent her because I know you’ll be a brilliant dad, but please for the love of god, don’t corrupt my pure little baby’s mind with your bad corny jokes. She doesn’t deserve that, no one deserves that, honestly.”

Avery giggles even more, finding it all hilarious. “She’s right, I told you they’re really bad.”

Gemma smiles widely, taking in a deep breath and letting it back out with a sigh. “Well, Louis is going to be in here any minute to poke and prod at me so I have to go. Actually, you know what—while I’m on the subject of Louis, I should probably say that—no I shouldn’t meddle…no, fuck it, yes I should I’m dying anyway.” She goes back and forth with herself before leaning in a bit closer to the camera. “Harry, look me in the eyes. Are you looking? I hope so because I want you to really listen to me.” Gemma says seriously with narrowed eyes and Harry feels like he already knows exactly what she’s about to say. “I’m not trying to play matchmaker or cupid or anything cheesy and lame like that but…Louis is important, H. He’s more than important—he cares for you, he really does, Harry. Honestly, I think he may even love you already and I know for a fact that you love him.”

_how did she know?_

“And don’t you dare frown and say ‘oh, how does she know?’” She mimics his deeper voice, pulling a specific facial expression of his. “Of course I know, you big oaf! I _know_ you—probably better than I even know myself, if I’m quite honest. And I swear to god I will fucking rise from the dead and kick your ass if you mess it up with him.” Gemma threatens, sounding incredibly serious. “I know how you tend to overthink things, but there’s nothing to think about. Nothing at all. I’ve never seen you as peaceful as you are when you’re around him. You’re always 100% genuine with him and he makes you smile in ways that even I never knew you could and the way he makes you laugh and forget all your problems—it’s beautiful, H. It’s so beautiful and you deserve someone who can make your heart full again. Please don’t push him away after I’m gone, ok?”  

Harry doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry or maybe a horrible mixture of both. He knows his sister only had his best interest at heart, all she wanted was the very best for him. If only Harry hadn’t avoided everything up until now, if only he had grieved her properly and dealt with his emotions maturely, maybe then he wouldn’t be in the position he is now. Perhaps he and Louis would still be together, be a family.

“Alright my loves, I’ve really got to wrap this up now.” Gemma announces sadly with another heavy sigh. “Harry, Avery, I don’t know what challenges may come up once I’m gone, I have no way of knowing where life will take you, but I know you’ll make it through it somehow because you have each other. And you’ll love each other through it all.”

Avery tilts her head up at him and Harry squeezes his arms around her, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose.

“I love you both with my whole heart.” Gemma whispers earnestly, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry to leave you, but don’t ever forget how much you mean to me.” She smiles one last time and it’s warm and it’s full and it’s bright and it’s everything. “ _Goodbye_.”

Avery and Harry sit quietly for a moment after the video comes to an end, before Avery reaches to touch the frozen screen depicting Gemma’s face.

“Bye mom.”

 

 

||☤||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtjd-Qtrz-E&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtqismXZQ274PRZ6HkHwll3&index=5)

Sitting in his car, Louis gazes down at the envelope in his hands. He’s been sitting in the hospital parking lot for the last thirty minutes waiting for the courage to finally open Gemma’s last parting words to him. Since Harry gave it to him this morning, it’s practically been burning a hole right through his lab coat pocket, daring him to drop everything and read it right then and there.

But Louis knew that he needed to be alone when he read it, he knew there was almost a guaranteed chance that whatever she wrote to him would throw him right back in time and who knows how his emotions will react to that.

Taking one last inhale, Louis begins to rip open the aged envelope, careful not to tear whatever pages lie inside. He pulls out a folded up, handwritten letter and as soon as he gets it opened up, he begins to read.

_My dearest Louis,_

_Well if you’re reading this, it’s safe to say that you’ve completely failed as my doctor and I’m officially dead. Kidding, kidding, it’s not totally your fault, after all you’re just a lowly intern, what could you possibly know anyway? (I’m totally joking, you know that, right? I joke too much, I know, but for the record, you’re definitely the smartest person I’ve ever met in my life and I think you’ll be a brilliant physician one day.)_

_Alright so, let me start by saying that I never thought I’d ever meet someone as wildly opinionated and strong-willed as me, but of course you and your smartass had to show up and completely prove me wrong. And now I don’t know how I ever lived without your friendship. I’ve only known you half a year or so, but it honest to god feels like I’ve known you my entire life._

_I don’t know where I would have been this entire time without you keeping me sane and grounded. But I sure as hell know that I wouldn’t have made it this far; you got me through so many hard days and you’ve made this hellish nightmare a bit more bearable. Because of you I can look back on all this and still smile, I can look back on the worst time of my life and still find it in me to have a laugh, a real, honest laugh. We have so many memories, beautiful moments that I’ll always hold dear and from the bottom of my heart, I just want to say thank you._

_Thank you for every time you put aside all the work you had to do just to talk with me. Thank you for all the times you stayed at the hospital overnight to keep me company when you could have gone home. Thank you for uplifting my mood and sharing your beautiful soul with me. You are without a doubt one of the most astonishing people I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing and with every failing organ in my body, I’m going to miss you, my friend._

_But…on the brightside, I guess I can rest easy knowing that I met and approve of my little brother’s future husband. I’m joking (I’m serious). I’ve started to take it as a sign that my baby always kicks when you’re in the room. I think she’s the best judge of character and since she seems to be dying to meet you, I think as far as future brother-in-laws go, you’ve got to be the very best there is to offer._

_And I’m probably going to go to hell for this but, you know what? Fuck it, I’m dying, I get to be a little messy. So that is why I just have to tell you that my brother is absolutely mad for you, Louis. ABSOLUTELY MAD. And honestly I’m going mad the longer he goes on without doing anything about it. Although I couldn’t be happier, because of all the people he could have fallen for in this world, he fell for you. I mean a super hot, sexy doctor who is also ridiculously hilarious and impossibly kindhearted? How much better can he really do? :)_

_But in all seriousness, please be patient with him, Lou. He’s going to be so very lost without me and I can’t tell you how worried I am for him. There’s no way to prepare him for this, but I’m asking that you be there for him—both of them. I’m asking that you take care of them for me, watch over them like you watched over me. He needs you, Lou. Obviously since he’s my brother he’s bound to be a stubborn ass, but even if he’s too stubborn to admit it, he needs you. Now more than ever. He’s so scared and I don’t blame him, becoming a dad is scary enough as it is, but becoming one so suddenly like this is unimaginable. I know you care about him, and I know you have real feelings for him and I doubt you ever thought that falling for him would come with a baby this soon in your relationship, who would ever expect that? It complicates things, I know and I’m so sorry for that, for putting all this on you both. But I hope that somehow, despite it all, maybe everything that’s happened whether good or bad, will bring you that much closer together._

_It’s an honor to have known you, love. You’re more than a friend, more than a best friend even. You’re family. I love you like my very own brother and a piece of my heart will lie with you forever._

_With all my love,_

_Gemma xx_

_p.s. I never cheated at cards, you just fucking suck :)_

Louis gazes down at the thin sheet of paper in his hand, rereading over the words scribed in ink over and over again until he can hardly see anymore. His eyes are wet and he didn’t even register that he started crying, but to be honest, it doesn’t take much to set him off these days. Louis uses the sleeve of his arm to wipe his face, sniffling to himself.

The letter was so heartwarmingly and unapologetically _Gemma_ —sarcastic, yet so sincerely sweet and Louis has missed his friend so much. But he can feel her again through her immortalized words and it makes him smile, an honest, genuine smile, even through his falling tears.

Louis didn’t realize how much he really needed something like this, a bit of closure to heal his heart. That girl was absolutely ridiculous and Louis almost has to laugh because Gemma really referred to him as her brother’s husband. When she wrote this, he and Harry had only known each other for a few weeks, but even still she was genuinely convinced that they were it for each other. But the funny part is—or maybe it’s not so funny, but Gemma was not totally wrong, Harry is it for him. Louis knows that in his heart and even if they never had a chance to work out, he knows that will always ring true, Louis has been proper gone for Harry since the start and he’ll always be the love of his life.

Louis also can’t get over how many times Gemma thanked him, because he always felt that he should have been the one thanking her. He _loved_ Gemma, he loved spending time with her and talking with her; he needed her every bit as much as she needed him. Being alone has never been a good place for Louis and starting residency without a single familiar face around him only added to his anxious, lonely feelings. But she made him feel better and brighter from the moment he met her. Gemma lightened the load of his heart somehow and she was so much more to him than another patient, she was another sister.

And instead of driving home like he knows he should, Louis hops right back out of his car and heads back to the hospital, having a sudden urge to be with Avery. Because just like her mother, she too makes Louis feel so much  _lighter_.

 

||☤||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8fYUkDnkY2A&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtqismXZQ274PRZ6HkHwll3&index=6)

“Louis…” Avery’s lips slowly spread into a soft smile when she sees him at her doorway, as they usually do. Although her voice is quiet and weaker than usual, she seems to grow more tired every day and it pains Louis’ heart to see.

“How are you, Aves?” Louis smiles back, tilting his head at her. “You alright, love?”

“I’m a little lonely…” Avery admits quietly and Louis silently thanks whatever nudged him to come back and visit her. “My Daddy had to go to work for a little bit.” She looks back to him nervously as though about to ask him a question. “Louis would you stay with me till he gets back or until I fall asleep? You could hold me or read to me or talk like you used to when I was a baby or something…”

And there’s absolutely nothing Louis would rather do, she didn’t even need to ask, he would have done it regardless. “Yeah little love, of course I will.”

Louis slides onto the hospital bed near her, gently pulling Avery into his lap and she automatically curls herself against him. And although she’s clearly a bit bigger now, he gently rocks her back and forth against his chest just as he once did when she was a tiny premature baby.

“I met my mom today.” Avery whispers quietly, not meeting Louis’ eyes as she talks. “Well not really...but…you were right…”

Louis doesn’t quite know what she means by that. “About what, darling?”

Avery looks up at him then with big, wide, warm honey-colored eyes, one cheek resting snugly against his chest. “She did want me…she loved me…”

Louis holds her face, running his thumb along her temple softly. He knows how confused Avery must have been about her mother, not knowing much about her all this time. And to think that she always questioned within herself whether her mother loved her or not causes Louis’ heart to constrict painfully. He nods his head, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “She always did, more than anything.”

“I didn’t know her…but I…I still miss her...” Avery admits, frowning to herself before lifting her gaze back up to him contemplatively. “Louis, will I always miss her?”

“Yes, love.” Louis answers honestly, nodding his head again. He knows of that feeling, that empty, hollow feeling of yearning, and not a day passes that he doesn’t feel the lingering ache in his chest for his own mother. “But she lives on in you. You have all the very best parts of her.”

Avery remains quiet at that for several moments, seeming to think on it to herself. “Do you miss your mom?”

“Everyday.” Louis admits quietly, uncovering the raw heaviness lining his heart as he thinks of his dear, sweet mum.

“And the best parts of her are in you too?” Avery asks next.

“I hope so.” Louis whispers softly.

Avery nods, offering him a warm smile. “Your mom had a lot of good parts then.”

Louis’ entire face softens as he looks down at her. “So did yours.”

Her smile grows even wider and more beautiful to the point where she almost seems to be glowing and all Louis wants to do is bask in the afterglow.

“I made you something.” Avery announces suddenly, sitting up a bit on his lap to reach for it on the nearby tray table.

“You did?” Louis is already smiling again.

“Yes! I promised I would, Louis. Remember I said I wanted you to have a piece of me too. It’s a friendship bracelet. So we can match.” She hands him a beaded bracelet made up of little beads that look just like little sunflowers. It’s a bright, golden yellow like her favorite color and on the front of the bracelet are lettered beads that spell out _L &A _ _BFF_ and Louis can only gasp in surprise when he catches the meaning of it.

“I decided that you’re my best friend—well, only if you want to be.” She says quietly, sounding a bit uncertain or even nervous. “It’s not as pretty as the one you bought for me, I don’t think...”

“No…it’s better—it’s…it’s…I…” Louis stutters, looking down at the simple bracelet in pure awe. Because it’s not just a simple bracelet, not to him. It’s beautiful, so incredibly beautiful, all because she made it and it’s her gift to him. And in all honesty, she could have presented him with just a string and he’d probably be just as touched, because it’s not about the gift, it’s about all the love behind it. The fact that she cares for him enough to want him to have something of hers always, something that represents their friendship, means more to Louis than anything. “Avery it’s lovely, darling. Thank you…I’d be so honored to be your best friend forever. Nothing would make me happier.”

And she beams as bright as the rising sun, vivid and brilliant. “Promise you’ll never, ever, _ever_ take it off, ok?” She says as begins to slip the bracelet onto Louis’ wrist.

Louis smiles fondly. “I promise, I’ll never, ever, _ever_ take it off—ok well, I have to take it off for surgery, but I swear I’ll keep it in my pocket the whole time and I’ll put it right back on after.”

“Ok…I can live with that.” Avery nods, grinning back at him.

And it’s kind of like a little secret between the two of them. No one quite knows what makes them so close, why they’ve always been so magnetically drawn to each other. Frankly, Louis doesn’t even understand it himself, all he knows is that he loves her with all the love left in his heart and he would do anything for her, anything at all.

The love he has for the child in his arms knows no bounds, it’s unconditional and unshakable. And maybe one day he’ll tell her exactly how much she means to him, maybe one day he’ll be able to proudly express the love he’s always had for her and let the whole world know that she is his in every way but one, but for now it remains an unspoken secret between them.

“Louis, will you tell me a story?” Avery requests, settling herself back comfortably into his arms.

“What kind of story?” Louis wonders.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I dunno, any kind of story.”

“How about you help me tell the story?” Louis suggests, raising an eyebrow.

“Ok, you start it off and I’ll jump in when I need to.” Avery decides, grinning.

“Ok.” Louis smiles and Avery wiggles herself around again, apparently needing to get herself comfortable once again. “Alright, so once upon a time there was a warrior, a fierce and brave warrior, the bravest in all the land. She loved everyone and everyone loved her and all she wanted was to protect the people she loved who lived in the castle.”

“Like The King.” Avery adds.

“Yes, like The King.” Louis nods easily.

“The King _and_ his Prince.” She amends pointedly.

Louis’ lips upturn slowly. “Alright, The King and his Prince lived in the castle.”

“Yes, they did _and_ they’re in love.” Avery stresses with wide eyes.

“Are they?” Louis wonders, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Of course they are.” Avery smiles and there’s something so knowing about how she says it. “What kind of story would this be if they weren’t in love?”

“I suppose you’re right.” Louis agrees, nodding his head side to side. “But I was trying to tell a story about an incredibly brave warrior and you’re trying to tell a love story.”

“It can be both, Louis!” Avery giggles, eyes crinkling.

“Ok, so since you seem to know the story better than me, what happened next then?”

“Umm…mmm...umm…mmm…ummm...” Avery ponders to herself for quite a few moments, puckering her lips together and squinting her eyes cutely. “There was big, mean, ugly poop colored dragon that was going to attack the castle.”

“Poop colored?” Louis wonders curiously, an amused tilt to his lips.

“Yes.” Avery nods slowly, yawning a bit as she grows more tired, allowing her eyes to fall closed as she talks. “It’s not a pretty color.”

“I suppose not.” Louis laughs a little.

“So then the brave warrior girl had no other choice but to go off and slay the mean old dragon to protect her castle, but The Prince and The King didn’t want her to go.”

“Why didn’t they want her to go?”

“Because they were afraid that she would never come home again.” Avery explains sleepily, eyes still closed. “And if she never came home again, the castle would never ever be the same.”

“But she was really brave, braver than anyone and she knew she had to go to protect her castle.” Louis adds, continuing the story.

“Right, so she packed a lunch first because it’s a long trip and she doesn’t like to be hungry.” Avery explains.

“Completely understandable.” Louis agrees wholeheartedly. “What’d she pack? It’s gotta be a balanced diet, you know?”

“Um…like Oreos…and juice…and…gummy bears…and maybe a sandwich? PB&J. Yeah, that sounds good.” Avery decides gradually, thinking to herself. “Oh! And jello, green jello.”

“Avery, that’s not at all balanced! How is she going to win on that kind of meal?” Louis frowns, expressing his disapproval of the fictitious lunch. “The King and The Prince would never allow this.”

“Fine, fine...” Avery smiles, another yawn sneaking past. “She also had celery sticks and carrots and maybe a banana or something. Happy now?”

Louis shakes his head. “I don’t know what kind of lunch that is, but I hope she makes it through the day ok.”

“She does, Louis! Don’t worry about her! She handled her business.” Avery defends, opening her eyes fully just to frown up at him and Louis can’t help but laugh, completely endeared. “And she eats all of her yummy lunch on the way and even has time for a nap—”

“A nap?! You mean to tell me that she didn’t go to bed on time the night before?”

“Of course she did! But a nap never hurts.” Avery insists before settling back down and closing her eyes again. “Anyway, by the time the warrior girl gets to the mean old dragon, she’s all ready to go and fight him, but _then_ she realizes that the mean, old dragon is only mean because no one ever talks to him or gives him hugs or any love. So instead of hurting the dragon, the warrior girl makes a new friend out of him and when she gives him a hug, he turns into a beautiful walrus!”

“A walrus?” Louis gasps dramatically in surprise.  “I was not expecting that at all. You mean warrior girl had magical hugs this _whole_ time?”

Avery nods her head. “She sure did. It’s her secret gift.”

“That must be why everyone loves her. She has such a big heart.”

“Maybe so.” Avery shrugs in a knowing way and it’s becoming really adorable because she still has her eyes closed. “And so the warrior girl helps her new walrus friend get to his new home by the ocean and then after saving the day, warrior girl returns home to her King and her Prince.”

“I bet they are very happy to see her again.” Louis comments, more so just listening at this point.

“Mhmm…they both cry and hug her and tell her never to leave them again. And then the King and Prince get married and—”

“Wait, what?” Louis interrupts in confusion. “They weren’t married this whole time?”

Avery shakes her head. “No, they had to wait.”

“And why’s that?”

“I dunno, they just did.” Avery shrugs again. “But it’s ok because they finally get married and then they all lived happily ever after together. The! End!”

“The end.” Louis repeats after her, sighing as though he’s somehow exhausted. “Wow, that story was a bit more stressful than I thought it was going to be.”

Avery laughs, but it soon turns into another yawn.

“Sleepy?” Louis cradles her head, readjusting her in his arms.

“Mhmm…” She nods groggily, tucking herself back down against him.

“I’m surprised you made it through that story without falling asleep.” Louis teases a bit.

“ _Heyyy_.” Avery pouts, dragging the word out slowly and she sounds exactly like Harry, even managing the same dopey expression. Whenever her mannerisms mirror his, Louis can never help but be a little in awe of it.

“What? It’s true, love.” Louis grins down at her fondly. “Your eyes were closed the whole time and everything.”

Avery yawns again. “Well, I’m sleepy, I can’t help it.”

Louis tilts his head as he gazes down at her affectionately. Will he ever not be hopelessly endeared by every little thing about her? Probably not, but he is very much ok with that.

“Hey.” Louis murmurs softly before she completely falls asleep.

“Hm?” Avery hums blearily, eyes still closed.

“You know you’re still the only girl I’d do this for.” Louis whispers to her temple, pressing his lips to her skin gently just as he did every night when she was a baby, his baby.

Avery smiles contently, all dimples and missing teeth. She snuggles even closer to Louis, arms wrapped around him as tight as can be.

It doesn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep after that, safe and secure in Louis’ arms. He lulls her quietly, rocking her even after he knows she is sound asleep. And looking down at her sweet tranquil face, Louis feels another strong surge of overwhelming affection bubbling up in his heart for her yet again.

Louis lifts his head to see Harry standing quietly in the doorway. Who knows how long he’d been standing there watching Louis with Avery, but his expression is soft although clearly still exhausted.

“Oh…erm hi Harry, you’re back.” Louis shifts a little on the bed, speaking in hushed tones to avoid waking the sleeping girl nestled against him. “Um…she was feeling lonely without you but um…I can go now…”

Harry shakes his head, taking a step into the quiet room. “No, please stay, it’s fine. She’s already asleep in your arms.”

Louis looks back down at Avery tucked peacefully to his chest, little huffs of breath escaping her mouth. She looks like an angel, a beautiful serene angel.

Harry sits down in the chair next to them, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the top of Avery’s head. “Thank you…” He starts off slowly, his words already warm and heartfelt. “Thank you for always being there for her when I can’t be.”

Louis nods; as if he really had a choice, Avery’s heart calls to his and he will always be here for her when she needs him no matter what happens.

And maybe it’s the late hour or the odd sense of peace wafting in the room that causes Harry to keep talking honestly. “I haven’t really been sleeping much lately…” Harry speaks lowly, eyes cast down to his wrung hands in his lap.

“Me neither.” Louis finds himself admitting.

“Every time I try it’s like…it’s like…” Harry sighs as through there are a thousand bricks weighing down his shoulders. Everything about him looks so weak and miserably faint, defeated in every possible way.

“It’s like the worst gets the best of you.” Louis finishes for him, knowing the exact feeling by heart.

Harry glances up to meet his eyes and his voice is quiet. “Yeah…”

Nothing else need even be said, Louis nods his head in total understanding. It’s nearly impossible to sleep when the darkest of realities constantly consume his mind, becoming more vivid with each cruel occurrence. It can get so bad that it becomes hard to even gauge what’s real and what’s not. It’s horrifying to even consider the concept of losing something that can never again be replaced, let alone knowing that it may come sooner than imagined.

And although Louis thinks better of it, as he does with so many things, he scoots himself over on the bed, wordlessly inviting Harry to join him. Harry doesn’t even hesitate, settling his body right next to Louis. There’s not much space, but the three of them easily fit on the hospital bed together, Avery shared by both of their laps.

“It’s…I think it’s easier when you can feel her heartbeat…” Louis whispers as not to wake her. He reaches over and gently takes Harry’s hand in his, moving to position it on Avery’s back in just the right spot so that he can feel the steadiness of her heart under his palm. “So when the worst comes to mind, you can always try to ground yourself by feeling her heart…it might help remind you that she’s still here…she’s still ok…”

Harry holds his hand to his daughter’s still body, gazing down at his hand as he seems to take in the feeling of her beating heart in awe. Then he looks back up to Louis appreciatively and although he doesn’t say anything, Louis can see in his shining eyes just how much it really means to him.

And it probably should be far more uncomfortable than it actually is with how they’re positioned, bodies touching in countless places, nearly overlapping with how close they are. But with Avery partially curled to his chest and Harry huddled close by his side, Louis finally drifts off, managing a few hours of much needed sleep that he thought would never come.

In fact, all three of them do. The King, The Prince and The Warrior.

 


	14. fourteen.

_fix it, for it has only ever been yours._

 

||☤||

 

The next morning Louis wakes up feeling more refreshed than he has in days. He feels a bit lighter and he doesn’t even remember falling asleep until he begins to register his surroundings. His legs are tangled up with Harry’s and his head somehow found its way to rest on Harry’s shoulder. One of Harry’s arms are draped gently over him and Avery is partially twisted around in his arms and although it’s such a tight fit, Louis feels so _safe_.

He can’t believe he actually fell asleep. In Avery’s hospital bed. With Harry no less. And it’s odd, or maybe it’s not so odd, but being with them seemed to be all the peace and comfort his body needed to relax enough to finally fall asleep after days of insomnia. It’s not just that he fell asleep, but that he _stayed_ asleep—all through the night Louis slept, not stirring even once.

Obviously Louis knows what the key difference is, but he doesn’t really want to talk about that, especially not right now and if he waits around much longer that’s exactly what is going to happen. Harry and Avery are still asleep, so Louis carefully untangles himself from Harry’s limbs, adjusting the rest of Avery’s body against Harry, before quickly making his exit from the room.

Louis heads to the attendings’ lounge in hopes of finding food or something and for the first time in days, he discovers that he not only feels rested, but he doesn’t feel so incredibly stressed out and panicked. Yes, he knows that nothing has been solved yet, but for whatever reason he still feels calm and centered.

He heads down the hall, choosing to take the staff staircase because it’s faster and no one is ever there, but to his delightful surprise he bumps right into Niall and Charlie who _definitely_ know how to take advantage of an empty stairwell.

“Just because it’s 5:30 A.M. doesn’t mean no one is here to see you suck face with each other.” Louis smirks in amusement, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches them jump away from each other instantly. “You could at least get a room. They’re free here.”

They both blush immediately, turning their usual bright rosy shade as they always do when Louis catches them. Which seems to be a pattern as of late.

“Am I really the _only_ one who ever catches you guys?” Louis tries not to start laughing, but he can’t help the few giggles that escape his lips. “Why me?”

“Oh…Dr. Tomlinson—I was uh…just going to um…you know…prep for morning rounds so uh…” Charlie stammers, adjusting her glasses back into place as she tries to make herself more professionally presentable. She leans up on her tiptoes to press a short kiss to the corner of her boyfriend’s mouth before bolting down the stairwell.

Louis is still smirking, biting his lip to stop his entertained cackles. He’s probably acting like a child, but he doesn’t really care. It’s funny and it feels like he hasn’t properly laughed in awhile.

Niall shoves him playfully as he turns to start walking up the stairs. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Louis raises both his hands in surrender, openly laughing a bit more now that Charlie is gone. He slings an arm around Niall’s shoulder, pinching him in the waist teasingly. “Fun night last night?”

But instead of laughing and swatting Louis’ hands away like he usually would, Niall makes the weirdest face Louis has ever seen on him, like he’s suddenly anxious and queasy.

“Wait, Ni?” Louis frowns suspiciously, looking at him seriously now. “What the hell was that? Did something happen last night?”

“I mean…no?” Niall starts shyly, avoiding eye contact and scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know—yes…I guess? Maybe no…yeah?”

“Niall, speak English, lad!” Louis laughs, shaking his head. “Clearly something happened or else you wouldn’t be rambling with that look on your face and—”

“Charlie told me she loves me.” Niall blurts out, managing to look like a lost little kid even as a full grown man in his thirties.

“Aww really?” Louis smiles, he must admit he’s a sap for that kind of thing. “Did you say it back? You did say it back right…Niall?”  

When Niall still doesn’t answer, Louis throws his head back and groans heavily in complete disappointment.

“No…?” Niall admits sheepishly, once again looking nauseated.

“Horan, what the fuck?” Louis blurts, almost angrily in disapproval. “But you’re clearly in love with her—”

“I _panicked_ , ok!” Niall squeaks, shaking his head regretfully. “We were in an on-call room and we just had sex and it was really great…everything was really good…and then she just _said_ it…like out of the fucking blue! And I...I dunno…I pretended to be asleep…”

“Oh god…” Louis groans again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Does she know you weren’t really asleep? Because that’s the fucking worst, man.”

“I don’t think so?” Niall thinks back, frowning. “I mean she just kinda went to sleep after that? And…well she did turn away from me—”

“She knows.” Louis nods to himself, hearing all he needed to guess the truth. “Oh, she _definitely_ knows.”

“But…she didn’t act weird this morning?” Niall continues frowning to himself at a loss.

“Why would she want to make it more awkward than it already is? Especially when she knows she still has to see your ugly face all day long at work as her attending.”

“ _Shit_ …” Niall curses under his breath, hand on his temple. “Fuck, you’re right.”

“I know!” Louis nods obviously. “You gotta fix this, mate. I mean…what is it? Do you not feel the same way about her? Or…”

“No I do, I love her…I have for awhile I just…I dunno, Lou.” Niall sighs, running both of his hands through his hair. “I’ve only ever told one other person that I was in love with them and it ended horribly and I guess maybe I’m still scared…She’s different though…I know that but…it’s like it means more with her…”

“Niall, I’ve never seen you more frazzled by one girl.” Louis reminds, having bore witness to this entire relationship. “You love her and if she means that much to you, you’ve got to tell her.”

Niall nods his head slowly. “I should go find her—I should go right now and I should bring her flowers—daisies! She loves daisies. Do you think flowers are enough?” He worries, sounding more frantic by the second. “Maybe I should bring chocolates too or I don’t know—I just gotta go find her!”

“Not now, you idiot!” Louis smacks his shoulder. “She has rounds! Don’t embarrass her in front of her intern friends, are you mad?” He smacks his shoulder again just because he can’t believe his friend is being this dense. “Talk to her in private later. Geez, I would think that’d be obvious but…wow.”

“Oh my god, what if I really messed it up? What if she hates me now? What if she doesn’t think it’ll work out between us anymore and she dumps me? I don’t wanna be dumped.” Niall continues to worry and Louis would hardly be surprised if he started to break down and cry or something right here in the stairwell. “I’m really, really bad at breakups—I get way too attached and I cry and it’s bad, Lou…it’s really, _really_ bad—fuck!”

“It’s going to be ok—”

“No, it’s not because I fucked it uuup!”

“Niall, stop worrying! Pull yourself together, man!” Louis shakes his best friend by his shoulders. “You’re seriously catastrophizing this when you haven’t even talked to the girl yet. Calm down, mate.”

“But I _fucked_ up, Lou! I love her and I should have just told her and now it’s gonna _weird_! Niall groans heavily. “I should have dated more in college or something? Maybe then I’d be better at this? I was just so focused on school, you know? There wasn’t enough time to date, but now I’m a grown ass man and I fucking _suck_ at it!”

“We all do, to be honest. But come on, it’ll all be ok, Ni.” Louis promises, looping an arm through Niall’s to drag him forward. “Let’s go steal food from the lounge, that always cheers you up.”

When they finally get to the attendings’ lounge, Liam is already sitting at one of the tables, typing madly on a laptop.

“Hey Li.” Louis greets but is met with hardly any response, Liam’s brow furrowed tightly in stern concentration. “Alright then…”

Niall plops himself down on the couch, spreading his whole body out in what appears to be self-loathing. Louis shakes his head at the two of them and heads right to the refrigerator, ready to swipe and loot whatever he can.

Zayn walks in only a few minutes later holding a tray of fresh coffees, immediately frowning as he takes a survey of the lounge. “Damn there’s so much stress in this room. I’m nearly choking on all the anxiety I’m breathing in just by being in here. What’s going on? Y’all good or what?”

“Oh, hey Z.” Louis pops his head up from behind the fridge. “Have no clue what’s up with Liam, he was like that when I got here. But Niall is having relationship problems—or actually he created relationship problems for himself. He’s fixing it though, no worries.”

“But what if I can’t fix it? What if it’s _over?”_ Niall sighs heavily, arm thrown over his face.

“Niall, relax mate. Have an orange.” Louis tosses an orange across the room to Niall who doesn’t even bother to catch it, instead letting it hit him pathetically in the chest.

“Well, you look better, at least.” Zayn notes positively, walking towards Louis by the fridge. “Finally get some rest?

“Yeah actually…” Louis nods, digging around on the bottom shelf for any food that isn’t explicitly labeled. Honestly, he’s hardly above stealing the labeled food as well, but he figures he should at least start with the food that doesn’t have a real owner. “I feel alright…yeah…”

“Glad to hear it, bro. You looked like the walking dead, no shit.”

“I can’t even argue with you, Z. I caught a glance of myself in the mirror the other day and I was horrified to say the least. I nearly shit myself.” Louis jokes, smiling from behind the refrigerator door.

Zayn laughs, shaking his head. He comes around and drops an arm over Louis’ shoulder. “I’m glad you’re beginning to get back to your old self, Lou. We’ve missed you.”

It could just be the effects of a good night’s sleep or it could be far more than that, but whatever the true source, whether directly linked to being with Harry and Avery all night or not, Louis has no idea how long it will last. But he isn’t going to think too hard about it for the time being, instead he is going to keep going along with his day and enjoy his rare stress free moment.

“Oh jackpot!” Louis grins, snatching a whole box of pastries out of the very back of the fridge. Whoever tried to hide them back there played themselves the second they decided to leave them unguarded in the lounge.

“Well, let me go deal with my husband.” Zayn plucks a chocolate drizzled pastry out of the box, before turning his attention. “Liam, I brought you coffee.”

“Thank you. Love you. Can’t talk right now.” Liam answers in clipped sentences, zoned completely into his work. But Zayn is undeterred, walking over to his boyfriend anyway.

“I missed you when you didn’t come home last night, Li.” Zayn slides his arms over Liam’s shoulders from behind, dipping down to nip behind his ear. But he instantly scrunches up his nose once he gets close enough. “When is the last time you showered, babe?”

“Who knows! It’s this grant proposal I’m writing, it’s stressing me out!” Liam snaps suddenly, radiating all kinds of stress. Grant proposals are no joke though, Louis knows how much of a pain in the ass those can be. But if it can get a doctor the funding needed to do some real good, then it’s often worth the ridiculous amounts of stress in the end. “Look at this, I’m breaking out like a teenager!”

“But I thought you finished that already?” Zayn questions, dropping down in the chair next to Liam.

“Well I did, but then last night I had an even better idea to enhance the entire bone regeneration process using nanotechnology at a molecular level—anyway I had to rewrite the entire proposal from start to finish before I submit it.” Liam explains, taking a hefty sip of the coffee Zayn just gave him.

“You’re so amazing, babe.” Zayn awes proudly, massaging the back of Liam’s neck to ease some of his tension. “But I still think you should take a break from all that, maybe chill out a little and—”

“I can’t chill out now, Z! I’ve come way too far to chill out!” Liam stresses and it’s completely out of character for him, he’s usually pretty easygoing and calm, normally telling the rest of them to chill the fuck out. “And on top of that, I’m supposed to present this to The Board this afternoon and I’ve got massive pimples on my face from all the stress this proposal is causing me…it’s so _gross_ …”

“I’ll say. A shower definitely might help with that though.” Louis comments, sitting on top of the table with the entire box of pastries in his lap.

“Um…I’m literally eating, could you not.” Niall complains in a bitter mood as he picks apart his orange as though it offends him.

“And The Board is not going to want to hand out money to a doctor who looks like he just hit puberty!” Liam continues to worry incessantly.

“Mate, I really doubt The Board gives a shit about what you look like. They’re interested in your research proposal, not your zit face. Put a steroid cream on it or something.” Louis suggests, nibbling at a strawberry filled pastry. “The pharmacy has some really good ones. One of us can write you a script and you’ll be fine.”

“But I’ve already raided the pharmacy and nothing has worked!”  

Louis shrugs, switching out his strawberry pastry for a blueberry one. “Guess you’ll just be pimply for a while then. There’s always make-up.”

“I’ll love you regardless.” Zayn promises, leaning in to kiss Liam’s cheek.

“You love your boyfriend even when he looks this shitty. Not as vain as I thought you were, good on you, Zayn.” Louis teases, knowing fully well that Zayn is actually a huge softy and his love for Liam knows no limits.

“Shut up.” Zayn laughs, throwing a plastic spoon at Louis’ head. “I’d love him no matter what. Even though he really does smell like shit right now.”

Surprisingly, Liam isn’t even paying the slightest bit of attention to Zayn’s profession, instead preoccupied using his phone’s front camera to inspect all of his current stress related breakouts.

“I’d love Charlie no matter what too, but she might never get to know that.” Niall adds, even though no one had asked.

“Oh my god, Niall! For fuck’s sake!” Louis groans exasperatedly, picking up the spoon Zayn just threw and tossing it at Niall.

“What? It’s true!” Niall defends, shielding his body.

“Wait…so?” Zayn frowns looking between the two of them, feeling out of the loop. “What exactly happened with Charlie? I’m lost…”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Niall flips himself back over on the couch to continue moping.

“That’s a first…”

“Ugh and I’ve tried _everything_ to get rid of it…I just wanna, like, I dunno? Zap it off my face somehow?” Liam rambles to himself, although no one seems to be really listening except maybe his phone. “Just shrink it down until it’s nonexistent or something? I need more friends in Dermatology, you guys are useless.”

Louis frowns at that, not because Liam is so oddly fixated on his acne problems, but because it sparked an interesting concept in his head.

“Shrink it...” Louis repeats slowly, yet a bit absently, eyes narrowed in sudden thought.

“Oh, don’t start mocking me now, Louis.” Liam sighs, shaking his head in warning. “I really don’t have the patience today.”

“Holy shit…” Louis gasps suddenly, face completely lighting up. “ _Shrink it!_ Oh my god, Liam! That’s it!” 

“What’s it?” Liam frowns in confusion.

Of course it would come to him when he was finally relaxed and calm. Niall was right, all he needed was to let his mind loosen up enough and the answer would come to him.

“I could literally kiss you! No—I will kiss you.” Holding Liam’s face Louis plops a big wet kiss to his cheek. And because he’s so excited he gives one to Niall as well, catching him off guard from his practically fetal position on the couch.

“Spare me, please.” Zayn begs when Louis turns to him next. But Louis is not at all deterred and he licks his lips and smacks the biggest kiss of all to Zayn’s forehead, making it as loud and obnoxious as possible.

“I have to go!” Louis grabs another pastry as well as the coffee Zayn brought him and bolts out of the attendings’ lounge with inspiration in his heart and an idea in his mind.

“What was that about?” Liam continues to frown, gazing after the door Louis just ran through.

“I’m never sure when it comes to Tommo.” Niall shakes his head. “It’s probably fucking brilliant though.”

 

 

||☤||

 

“I want to go back in.” Louis announces, without knocking, without introduction, barging right into The Chief of Surgery’s office. The entire day he’s been locked away in the research lab, but this time around he made progress, he actually made a _plan_.

“What?” Steve looks up from his desk, adjusting his reading glasses as his attention shifts to Louis.

“I want to go back into surgery and I need you to give me privileges over Avery Styles’ case again.” Louis clarifies, walking further into the office to stand across from Steve at his desk.

“And why exactly would I do that?” Steve frowns curiously. “Has something changed in her condition?”

“No, but I have a plan.” Louis drops a stack of journals on the desk along with the most recent version of Avery’s brain scans. He holds one of them up to the light so that Steve can see it. “What do you see?”

Steve puts his glasses back on and leans forward to get a better look. “Well, I see an inoperable astrocytoma invading both cerebral hemispheres.”

“Right, that’s all I could see too.” Louis nods, gazing at the haunting tumor. “But I realized this whole time I’ve been looking at it all wrong. If I only look at it with the intent of cutting it out, then of course it’s inoperable. But what if I don’t cut it out?”

“Louis, you’re a surgeon, that’s what you do. You cut.” Steve responds obviously, glancing back at him.

“Right, yeah but…not in this case. This tumor is smart and sophisticated, it’s so integrated within the tissue—the blood supply, the innervation, all of it. I can’t cut it out, no one could.” Louis says, lowering the scans back down. “So instead, my plan is to shrink it.”

Chief Aoki just blinks at him, waiting for Louis to elaborate further. “What?”

“When I was a fourth year resident, Dr. Carmichael and I were working on this clinical trial where we would inject a concentrated dose of a highly specialized virus into the brain to directly target tumors. The hypothesis of our research was that if done correctly, the virus would attack solely the tumorous cells and in effect, shrink them, leaving the healthy tissue untouched.” Louis explains, pulling out the original journal outlining the methods in depth. “We worked on this trial for nearly a year, but we never had any substantial results, so we eventually lost funding. And it wasn’t because it was an unrealistic or bad idea, we just didn’t have the methods right at the time. But I’ve been thinking about it—seriously thinking about everything we did wrong back then versus what we did right and I…I think a similar strategy could work for Avery.”

Steve continues to flip through the old journal articles, comparing the data and scans. “But these tumors in the study were no where near the size of your current patient’s and it didn’t work then, what makes you think it’ll work now with an even larger tumor?”

“This research is years old now and after going back over it, I’ve realized that there were key steps we should have went about differently, but we didn’t yet have the medical knowledge and understanding to know that at the time. But by combining newer techniques and tweaking the specific strain and dosage of the oncolytic virus to precisely match her tumor, I feel like it could really work.” Louis describes, trying not to get too ahead of himself. “To be honest with you, I’m still working through the exact plan myself, but I want to start by excavating what I can of her tumor out, and then strategically place radiation induced seeds around the borders of the tumor before injecting the virus. That way, with both the seeds and the virus working in tandem, the chance of reoccurrence should be basically eliminated.”

“I mean…it sounds absolutely brilliant Louis, it really does. But it also sounds incredibly risky.” Steve ponders, glancing down at the scans again. “And what is the projected overall success rate?”

This is the part Louis isn’t exactly thrilled about. “Well, sir…keep in mind that her tumor is widespread and this is practically untested and I don’t feel that the raw number accurately accounts for—”

“Louis, give me the numbers.” Steve cuts in, eyeing him seriously.

Louis breaks eye contact with Steve, lowering his head a bit. He knows The Chief isn’t going to like the numbers, they aren’t great and Louis can admit that, but despite how fucking wild it all sounds, this is Avery’s one and only chance of survival.

“Twelve percent.” Louis finally answers begrudgingly.

“Tomlinson…” Steve sighs heavily, shaking his head. “I want to have your back on this, I really do…but those are horrible odds. We can’t go through with something that experimental without at least having decent odds to go off of. The risk greatly outweighs the potential success and with those kind of odds it’s hardly realistic to think that your patient will come out of this alive.”

“Well, fuck the odds!” Louis bursts in sudden frustration. He has no filter anymore, nothing to censor him when his emotions flow freely and heavily through his veins. “The odds are that I should be fucking dead with rest of my family! The odds are that I shouldn’t be alive to even be a doctor right now! The odds are Avery’s tumor will completely overtake her nervous system in a few months. The odds are that she’ll be in so much undeserved pain as her body fails her. The odds are…that Avery will _die_ if I…if I do nothing…” His voice wavers as emotion begins to break through his composure. “The odds are fucking shit! So screw the odds! I’m not dead and she’s not dead and I can save her…” He is breathing heavily and with the surge of frustrated adrenaline he feels inside, Louis is almost certain the tears are soon to follow if he doesn’t calm himself down. “I can _save_ her…” 

As The Chief of Surgery, Steve knows vaguely of Louis’ past trauma with his family only because the basic details are outlined in his personnel file. He’s never brought it up before, in fact he’s never made any mention of it whatsoever or treated Louis any different because of it and Louis’ always been grateful of that. But in this moment, Steve doesn’t look at Louis like a boss to his employee, not even as a colleague to another colleague, but solely as a friend. And Steve looks at his friend, his scared, but hopeful friend, and he takes him by the shoulders and pulls Louis in for a warm hug.

Louis, in turn, folds his arms around Steve, taking in deep, calculated breaths to reign himself back in before it’s too late.

“You and this little girl…” Steve sighs knowingly, pulling back enough to meet Louis’ eyes again.

“She’s my…” Louis starts slowly, shaking his head as he cuts his words short. Everything in him wants to say so much, to say more, to call her by what she really is to him.

_she’s my baby_

“…My patient, Steve.” Louis finishes in a quiet, low tone, managing to bite his tongue. “She’s my patient and she deserves a fighting chance.”

Steve eyes Louis closely and it’s like he understands all that Louis isn’t saying. He watched Louis cart that little baby around as an intern, unwilling to even put her down longer than absolutely necessary and even though Steve wasn’t aware of everything that happened, he still witnessed the grave change in Louis after she was gone.

And anyone can see that Louis has been a complete and total mess ever since she’s come back into his life. Steve has already proven his awareness of this and that’s exactly why Louis isn’t on her case anymore. Louis isn’t biologically related to his patient, not by blood nor by marriage, but yet he has all the intense emotions of someone who is. There’s a reason why direct family are not permitted to treat their loved ones, there is a reason why they must keep a safe distance during times like these, because they can’t stop. They can never, ever stop when fluctuating emotions and resilient feelings take over, while years of training and logic are all but lost and sacrificed. Making this entire situation the biggest example of a grey area—a horribly grey and complicated area. Because Louis isn’t technically Avery’s family, bearing no familial ties to her whatsoever, although it’s so obvious to everyone around that she is the definition of family to him. But at the same time, he may also be the only person who can potentially save her.

“God, this is so risky…” Steve sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair as he deliberates to himself. It’s risky in more than one way and Louis knows it’s a lot to ask of his Chief, but he needs Steve to approve it. He glances down at the notes and scans one last time. “Only one slight wrong move and she’s brain dead. You understand that?”

“I do.” Louis nods seriously. And he really does, he remembers all the patients they lost in the trial, patients that had way better odds than Avery does. Louis remembers each one of their names and each one of their faces, he remembers standing with Dr. Carmichael as she told their loved ones that they were never coming back. The treatment is uncertain and the risk is high but…if there is a chance, if there is any chance, no matter how microscopic it may seem, Louis has no choice but to take it.

“It’s so dangerous, Tomlinson.” Steve pinches his brow as he continues to look over the case notes, clearly stressed out. “And it may not even work…”

_but what if it does…_

“I know, I know but...it’s her only hope…” Louis reminds, sounding desperate but he doesn’t even care. “Steve, it’s her only hope of beating this.”

Steve lifts his head, removing his glasses completely to search Louis’ fierce eyes. “Are you sure you can do this Louis, really?”

“Yes, I can do it.” Louis answers confidently—a confidence he doesn’t know if he actually has but he will fake it if he has to. The alternative is far more damning, doing nothing at all would go against everything he believes in. But Louis knows that regardless of which path they take, watching Avery die would be something that could easily make him walk away from medicine for good. The light inside him, that hope he carries like a torch through the worst of times, extinguished forever.

Steve pauses, exhaling heavily before gradually nodding his head. “Inform the patient’s family of all the risks. Every single one…and if they agree, then I’ll approve the procedure.”

 “I will, I promise. Thank you, Steve.” 

“But Louis promise me you’ll be professional about this—I know the emotions run high in this case, I get that…but I need you to keep it together no matter what happens from here.” Steve warns seriously, underlying worry coating his tone. “I don’t want to have to suspend you, or worse, suspend your medical license. Please be careful, ok?”

Louis nods his head, knowing all the implications of what Steve means. He has to keep his emotions in check, he has to find some way to temporarily detach himself from all this, from all that could so easily be lost, and just do his job.

For Avery’s sake.

 

||☤||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRzrBT9hRVQ&index=7&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtqismXZQ274PRZ6HkHwll3)

“Harry, there you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Louis exhales as he steps outside, rounding the corner of the breezeway between the two hospital buildings. The late afternoon air is more crisp and cool than usual, and the area is quiet and strangely tranquil. Harry sits unmoving on a bench—oddly, it’s the same exact bench that they first met at all those years ago, when Louis was only giving a disheartened stranger a hug.

Louis sort of wonders if Harry knows it’s _their_ bench, if he knows this is the spot that started it all for them. He must remember, there’s no way he doesn’t, not with all that’s happened since. So much has changed over the span of years that separate them, but yet so much has also eerily remained the same.

“I need to talk to you about Avery.” Louis speaks carefully in tones kept calm.   

Harry doesn’t utter a single word, instead continuing to stare ahead blankly. His position seems almost set in stone, an empty statue of himself, hardly so much as breathing. His features are heavy, weighted down by transfixed emotions. He’s been so spacey lately, and Louis can only wonder where his mind has taken him. Probably a horrible place, a terrifyingly dark and desolate state of mind that he can’t seem to escape.

“Harry?” Louis calls again after Harry makes no response. He takes a few steps closer, tilting his head at him in concern. “Are you alright?”

Harry blinks slowly as though registering Louis’ presence for the first time—as though registering himself and his surroundings for the first time in countless hours. Gradually he lifts his heavy head to Louis, managing to meet his gaze. And there’s so much confusion swimming in the green sea of his irises, murky with trepidation, clouded with uncertain hesitation. He looks so small—smaller than Louis has ever seen him and the look of utter displacement reminds Louis of Harry’s tragic expression nine years ago on this same bench, just as hopelessly adrift.

Harry considers Louis for several quiet, drawn out moments, brow wrinkled together in contemplation before he finally opens his mouth to speak. “Can I ask you something?”

His voice is so soft and faint that it nearly gets swept up in the light wind breezing around them. But from the way his broken gaze is peering up at him, tremendous heartache already laden under his heavy eyes, Louis knows that whatever Harry wants to ask him won’t be something superficial and light. And a part of Louis doesn’t want to risk being vulnerable with Harry again, doesn’t want to talk about anything that isn’t vitally necessary, anything that might expose his poorly concealed scars. It’s also terrifying to realize that there is probably nothing Harry could ask him that Louis wouldn’t feel compelled to answer. But despite all the confliction he feels tightening his chest, Louis finds himself nodding his head anyway, settling down on the lone bench next to Harry.

Not much space separates their bodies as they sit quietly together on a bench that holds so much history, just listening to the sounds of the city bustling around the medical center grounds. Louis doesn’t rush Harry with his question, as he never would, he sits patiently, welcoming the quiet stillness of the moment. No matter what Harry asks, Louis decides that despite how much it may hurt, he is going to be honest, not just for Harry but for himself. Because if Louis has learned anything recently, it’s that holding in his feelings will only break him in the long run and Louis really can’t take another break.

“How did you…” Harry pauses, chewing over his words, seeming to not know how exactly to place them into an understandable sentence. He twists his upper body slightly to face Louis and everything about his facial expression looks marred. No mask set in place to soften the presence of immense pain disfiguring his face, nothing but emotional wounds and imminent realities cut and scar him. “How did you keep going—after…after your family died? How did you...live?”

Louis looks straight ahead, because if he looks at Harry any longer he might not make it, hating how dejected and shattered he looks, tired like he’s been wrestling demons all night long. Louis lets out a long breath, clasping his hands together in his lap as he thinks about how to answer truthfully. “I didn’t want to…not even slightly…” He starts, considering his words as they leave his mouth. “Honestly, I spent so many days wishing I had died too. I wished I never went out to the store that night…that I stayed home with them…I wished I was gone with every breath I took without them. It just? It felt so unfair that I lived and they didn’t. Why me? Why couldn’t the roles have been reversed somehow or…I dunno—I just…I couldn’t…I couldn’t understand it…”

Harry nods faintly as though it’s all he can manage. Louis knows that he felt similarly when Gemma died, that he feels even worse about the concept of outliving his child. The sheer desolation of that tormenting feeling, the magnitude of it locked within with no tangible outlet for it to go, is enough to drive a person utterly mad. It taunts you, it eats at you day by day, piece by piece until you can hardly recognize yourself, let alone think about going on in a world as cruel as this.

“I kept thinking it over and over in my head, you know? I lived and they didn’t. I lived and they didn’t. I _lived_.” Louis stresses, taking in a deep breath along with the word, exhaling amongst the gentle wind. “For some reason I might never understand, I lived. And I dunno…I just couldn’t let it go to waste. They wouldn’t want that for me. I was at a place where I was living as though I was already dead—I didn’t care about anything and I didn’t want anyone to care about me either…” He admits, thinking back to those impossibly dark and desolate days. “And it was hard to push against that mindset—so fucking hard…everything in me fought against moving on, but I…I kept hearing my mum in my ear telling me to do good, to be good…reminding me to be strong even when I know I’m not. And my sisters…they….t-they always looked up to me—god only knows why, but…I couldn’t let them down. So I lived for them…in honor of them...” He takes in another hushed breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he allows himself to really feel them, feel his family. “They’re with me…they’re always with me in my heart. I know that nothing I do can ever bring them back, but I keep their memory alive and…I…I guess I just want to make them proud. In everything I do, I want to make them proud of me.”

“They were so... _good.”_ Louis breathes out, sighing with word as water heavily lines his eyes. “My mother was so good and kind and loving and my sisters were so sweet and innocent and just…so overwhelming _good_. They were the loveliest people you’d ever meet and despite all that they had left to give back to the world, they don’t get to live anymore, they don’t get to be good and change lives but…I do. I can still choose to make a difference, I can pass on the good they had and…I dunno…I guess I have to find meaning in that somehow...or else what would be the point of anything?” 

Harry reaches into Louis’ lap and takes one of his hands, interlacing their fingers together and holding on to it tightly. With tears brimming his own eyes, he looks right at Louis and his next words channel all the conviction he has left in him. “You have the strongest, bravest heart I’ve ever known.”

The saltwater lining Louis’ eyes begin to slip silently down his cheeks and he drops his gaze down, bowing his head. Ever since he first opened up to Harry, it’s like he can’t stop crying, the dam holding the last pieces of him together has been utterly shattered. Why does he constantly do this to himself—he’s supposed to be pulling away from Harry not growing closer, he’s supposed to be maintaining appropriate boundaries and keeping himself at a safe distance away to avoid moments like this. Moments where he can physically feel his heart leap right out of his chest, dismantling his entire system, all because of the soft, but heartfelt words of one single person. Louis continually tries his best to be guarded, but around Harry he’s nothing but an open book. There’s almost no point in trying to fight it.

“They’re proud of you. All of them, they are.” Harry whispers, voice filled with so much earnest sincerity. “I didn’t know your family, but I know that much, they’re so proud of you, Louis. I know your mum must have been so, so good…especially since she raised someone like you.” 

Louis slowly lifts his gaze back up to meet Harry’s and Harry only nods gently. His eyes are heavy and wet and everything about him is genuine, riddled in sadness, but still so very genuine. Harry closes his hand even tighter around Louis’, squeezing it in earnest. And all Louis wants to do is bury his head in the warm crook of Harry’s neck, bathe himself in all the comfort he’ll be sure to find there. But he somehow finds the will to restrain himself, respecting Harry’s relationship as he promised he would.

“I uh…I...” Louis clears his throat, swiping at his eyes with the back of his free hand, trying to get back to why he came out here in the first place, but he doesn’t let go of Harry’s hand. He just doesn’t want to and it doesn’t seem like Harry wants to either for that matter. “I need to talk to you about Avery.”

Harry nods slowly as though he expected it, remaining quiet as he visibly steels himself up for the worst. “Ok.”

“I think I might have a plan for her.”

“What?” Harry breathes audibly, clear disbelief evident as his eyes widen and his strong grip on Louis’ hand goes momentarily slack.

“Well—it’s quite experimental and it’s only worked on a handful of patients in the past, but…I think it could work with a few adjustments.” Louis begins to explain.

Harry’s expression is still riddled with confusion, eyebrows pulled together. “But I thought—I mean…I thought you couldn’t cut it out of her brain?”

“I’m not going to cut it out, I’m going to shrink it.” Louis tells him, knowing just how odd it all must sound. “The process is a form of immunotherapy and basically I would insert a live virus—an oncolytic virus, directly into her brain in hopes of shrinking her tumor.”

“You want to put a live virus in her brain?” Harry looks utterly faint at the prospect, eyes somehow widening even more.

“Yes.” Louis nods his head, gripping Harry’s hand. He wants to try and reassure Harry, registering the sheer panic on his face, but it’s hard to reassure him when he is absolutely right to be worried. It’s dangerous and not completely tested, who knows what might happen. “And I know how scary that sounds—but it’s a very specific virus that would directly target her tumor. And then I’d place radiation seeds around it to ensure that it never comes back in the future. I know I said at the beginning that radiation in itself typically isn’t the best option given her young age, but this isn’t a continuous treatment, it’s a one-time thing and—I know it’s a lot, but I promise I’ve planned it all out.”

Harry’s eyes are still impossibly wide and he looks nearly physically ill. “And…u-um if she didn’t have this surgery…how long do you think she would have?”

Louis looks down for a brief moment, deliberating how to say it. “It’s hard to say exactly…but based on the measurements of her scans, we know that her tumor is still growing at a rampant pace…so I would say around three to four months roughly.”

Harry sucks in a breath that doesn’t seem to go in easily, getting caught in his throat as he stiffly nods his head. Dr. Jones had already told him this a few days ago, but maybe there is something about Louis confirming it that makes it all more real for him. Harry’s clutch on Louis’ hand only tightens as his eyes fall closed once more.

“I’m not ready to lose her...” Harry whispers painfully quiet, as though if he talks any louder he won’t be able to hold himself together anymore. “I’m not ready to let go...”

And Louis feels the exact same way, running his thumb gently along the back of Harry’s hand. Louis only recently got Avery back in his life again in any capacity, the last thing he wants is to lose her. Not only does he not want to know what that kind of loss would do to Harry, he’s terrified to discover what it would do to himself.

“When Gemma was dying...I…I was so mad. So fucking _mad_.” Harry forces out through his clenched teeth, more tears brimming at his red eyes. “I was mad at just about everything…but I was mad at her more than anything else. A part of me blamed her for being sick—like it was somehow her fault for dying…for wanting to leave me. It’s fucked up…I know it is, but I couldn’t let those feelings go…I c-couldn’t let her go…and maybe my anger for her kept her alive in my head…” Harry sniffles, saltwater trailing his cheeks in growing streams. “Maybe I was being hopeful or just stupid…but I didn’t think she would actually die…the whole time it was happening—I don’t know? I…I couldn’t picture it, so I refused to accept it and I fought with her every step of the way because of how afraid I was of losing her. It was an impossible situation for her…there were no great options but I—god, I made it all so much worse for her.”

Harry drops his head down shaking it back and forth with overwhelming remorse as his choked back sob finally breaks free. “F-Fuck, I regret that…I regret everything—how I acted…I…I r-regret it so m-much…” Harry exhales, tears trickling down. “And most of all I regret staying mad even after she was gone…it wasn’t fair to Gemma and it wasn’t fair to A-Avery. I made it all about me when it was so much bigger than t-that...” His voice wavers and he has to pause just to compose himself somewhat. “I’d give anything for another chance to do it all again differently. To just _stop_ —stop fighting with her, stop ignoring the truth and just be with her—really cherish the short time we had l-left and support her as she needed me to….I would l-love her…I would love her unconditionally through the very e-end...”

Harry swipes harshly at this eyes with his free hand. “I don’t want to make the same mistakes again just because I’m afraid of what might happen. Avery deserves a fighting chance, she deserves that w-whether…whether I’m r-ready or not.” Harry falters, taking a deep breath as he gazes down at their joined hands. “That’s what Gemma would want. She’d want her to fight.” He nods slowly to himself, before casting his head back to exhale heavily. “God, she’d be so broken up about this—about Avery being terminally sick. She’d _hate_ it. But she’d hate it even more if we did nothing. If we didn’t try fighting…” Harry whispers, righting his head back up and weakly turning towards Louis. He looks fearful of his next words, terrified to speak them aloud and brave the raw weight of their implications. “Do it.” 

Louis deeply searches Harry’s eyes, trying to make sure this is really what they should do. Trying to assess whether Harry fully knows what all this will mean. He looks so sad, so incredibly heartbroken and frightened and Louis’ entire heart goes out to him, wishing he could find a way to make this any easier.

“Do it, Louis.” Harry whispers again, eyes lined with unshed tears.

“Harry, I need you to understand all the risks going through with this.” Louis answers, speaking slowly to keep his own voice from giving out on him. He feels just as terrified as Harry looks, but he’s trying his best to be professional and levelheaded and strong enough for the both of them. “There is a very high chance Avery could die on the table. Her brain could swell and she could bleed out and hemorrhage. The strain could be too great for her body to manage and her heart could give out completely. She could have a blood clot, or a stroke or an aneurysm at any time during the procedure. Her body could completely reject the virus and go into anaphylactic shock on the table.”

Harry breathes heavily, taking in slow and deep breaths as he rakes a hand through his unruly hair. He bites down hard on his lower lip as more tears make their way down his cheeks. He grips Louis’ hand, clearly using the connection to steady himself. “O-Ok…” He finally mumbles feebly after a few minutes of internal thought.

“And even if this works and the surgery goes well, she could still wake up with major deficits.” Louis forces himself to continue. He knows how much it pains Harry to hear it, but he also knows that Harry needs to be completely aware of the possibilities. There are all very real, very probable complications and as much as it hurts Louis to say, he knows it’s for the best. “She runs the risk for permanently altered speech, blurred vision, limited range of motion or even loss of memory. Harry…she…she could wake up and not be your daughter anymore—everything that makes her who she is could be gone if the virus doesn’t take properly.”

Harry hangs his head, gaze trained on the floor as his free hand finds its way back to his scalp, pulling at his hair. “ _Fuck_ …” He curses under his breath in utter frustration and torn confusion. There’s so much uncertainty is his tone, in his body language, the gravity of this decision tearing him apart right before Louis’ eyes. Louis continues stroking his palm, reminding him that he’s here for him. “But…this is really her best shot, right L-Lou? This…it’s…it’s the r-right thing to do for her?”

Louis knows what he is really asking, he knows the understated question laced between Harry’s words. He’s asking for another opinion. Not from a doctor, or a professional, but from a person he knows cares deeply about his daughter. This is so much pressure to be placed on a parent. A single parent. Normally there are two people to bear the weight of a decision like this, but Harry has to bear that burden on his own two shoulders. The pressure is twice as heavy with no one to offset the encumbrance. He just wants a little reassurance.

Louis reaches over and takes Harry’s other hand in his, trailing both of his thumbs supportively over each of his hands. He holds Harry’s broken, petrified gaze for a while, hoping to calm him down. “Yes. I really believe it’s the best option for her.”

Harry takes in a few sedative breaths, not letting go of Louis’ fingers, allowing them to center him. He stares at their clasped hands resting on his thigh before lifting his head to look back into Louis’ eyes openly. “I trust you.” 

“Harry…” Louis starts, not wanting to pull too much rank over Harry’s decision. “I think this is the right thing to do but um…maybe you should still take some time to think about it or um…consult another specialist? I just—”

“Louis.” Harry whispers urgently, disrupting Louis’ words. His eyes are trained on him projecting something Louis has never quite felt from Harry before. “I trust you.”

Louis gazes back uncertainly, but all he sees in the mossy green of Harry’s eyes is overwhelming sincerity, as though he would entrust his entire life to Louis if he so much as asked.

_“I trust you…”_

 

||✚||

 

Laying in a hospital bed that’s become too familiar for comfort, Harry cradles his sleeping daughter to his chest, stroking her back gently. He once again couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep, becoming obsessed with feeling Avery’s heartbeat thumping against his own. It once calmed him down, gave him momentary peace, but now the fear he’s been trying to keep locked inside is too great. Harry can’t begin to imagine a world where her heart no longer beats, he can’t picture his heart having the will to beat on its own, knowing that hers will never thrum alongside it. And he tries so hard to hold back his tears for fear of waking her, but a sob manages to escape his lips regardless, shuddering his entire frame.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m so sorry.” Avery whispers softly, very much awake as she sits up against him with a worried look pulling at her features.  

“Oh no, it’s not your fault, Munchie…it’s not.” Harry wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie, sniffling as he tries to offer her a smile, but it comes off painfully weak. He didn’t want to wake her, he wants so much to be strong for her, even when he feels anything but strong.

“You’re crying because of me.” Avery hangs her head sorrowfully. “You’re sad because of me.”

Harry reaches to softly caress her face with his palm, shaking his head. “I can’t be sad if I have you, Avie.” 

“But a healthy me would make you happier.” Avery whispers, peering up at him as if she might start crying too.

“Any you makes me happy, Aviebug.” Harry promises, pressing a long, tender kiss to her temple. “Any and every version of you I can get.”

Avery wraps her small arms around Harry’s neck, nuzzling her face against the top of his chest. And Harry holds her as close as possible, attempting to commit to memory exactly how it feels to have his baby safe in his arms.

“Daddy…are you scared?” She peeks up at him slowly, tiny fingers playing with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “You don’t have to hide it from me. It’s ok.”

Harry presses his lips together, trying to contain himself as he nods slowly, eyes still glistening. He promised himself that he’d be honest with her, he promised he wouldn’t hide himself away anymore. He tightens his arms around her back, fighting the feeling of her slipping away. “Yes…I’m scared, baby.”

_i’ve never been more scared in my life…_

“Me too.” Avery whispers back honestly, wide hazel eyes staring up at him. “But…you know, I learned a trick about being scared.”

Harry looks down at her in silent question, eyebrows pulled together.  

Avery smiles a bit then, a slight mischievous glint to her grin. “But you’ll have to trust me.”

“Ok…” Harry agrees slowly, not knowing what he’s even agreeing too.

And after much begging and adorably pouty faces, Avery somehow convinces Harry to steal a wheelchair for her from the nurses’ station. She proceeds to carefully instruct him on exactly which wires to unplug and which ones to take, having apparently seen the nurses hook her up many times. Harry is truly shocked, to say the least. The amount of things she’s picked up on during her time her is incredible.

Then, on the way up the elevator, Avery swipes the badge of an unsuspecting doctor, stealing it from their waistband easily with the convenient eyelevel of her chair. Harry gives her a look and shakes his head, wondering where she got such sticky fingers from, but Avery just shrugs cutely as they ride all the way up to the very top floor. And she really did know exactly what she was doing, because she uses the badge she just stole to open the secured restricted access door.  

“Avie, how did you know about all this?” Harry wonders in honest fascination, as he rolls her out onto the roof of the medical center.  

“I learned a few things being here.” Avery smiles easily, shrugging to herself from under her fluffy ladybug blanket.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UgEn7l1VfZI&index=8&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtqismXZQ274PRZ6HkHwll3)

The view in itself is astounding, warm colors painting the Seattle skyline like a magical work of art. There aren’t many better places to watch the sun set than up high like this and it feels even more special somehow, just being here with Avery.

“Ok Daddy, so one of my very best friends showed me this trick about being scared. He said that when you’re scared the best thing to do is scream your fears out to the world. That way they don’t have power over you anymore.” Avery tells her father, looking up at him from her chair. “So that’s why we’re here. Because this is the best place to let all your fears go.”

Harry looks down at his daughter and feels his lips pull into a small smile. He loves just how close Avery has gotten to Louis, how she relies on him and trusts him completely as though he’s the other parent she always should have had. Probably because he really is.

“I’ll go first because you’re new at this.” Avery offers easily, sitting up a bit in her chair.

“Ok, sweetheart.” Harry nods, still smiling at her softly. “Show me how it’s done.”

Avery closes her eyes for a moment, seeming to think about what she wants to say, but when she finally does speak Harry’s heart nearly shatters. “I’m scared to leave my Daddy all alone…I’m scared he won’t ever be happy again and…” Avery looks up at her father, looking directly into his eyes or maybe even into his soul. “I’m scared that…he’ll let Louis get away…” 

Harry looks down at her at a loss, her words echoing around him in the stillness of the wind. It never ceases to baffle him how she became so selfless and sincere, always worried about everyone else but herself.

“Now you try it.” Avery encourages, still peering up at him. “Go on Daddy, you can do it. Scream everything that you’re scared of.”

His heart is rattling so hard, like it’s no longer contained by his chest, but at the very least he wants to continue to be honest. With himself and with Avery. He’s been trying to do that more, little by little, he’s been trying to be more transparent with her no matter how much it may hurt. She deserves that from him. So Harry delves within himself to uncover his fears, not that he had to dig all that deeply, they’re all staring him right in the face each and every day.

“I’m...I’m scared to tell Louis that I love him…” Harry whispers slowly out into the wind, feeling the words dance around him. It’s not anything close to a shout, but it’s the very first time he’s said it out loud. The very first time he has given the words that dance around his head constantly, the validity to stand on their own.

With a newfound gust of bravery, Harry sucks in a deep breath and lets the rest of his fears rip from his chest, allowing his voice to grow louder. “Because I’m scared of the past and I’m scared of making all the same mistakes again. I’m scared of not being enough…I’m scared to stop running…I’m afraid of moving on…”

But his biggest fear he doesn’t even want to utter out loud and it takes him a moment to even gather his thoughts enough to even think it.

“And more than anything…I…I’m scared that my Avie won’t ever have the chance to properly grow up.” Harry ends, feeling suffocated with his newly freed reflections. The hot sting of saltwater pricks mercilessly at his eyes as a crippling emptiness pits deep inside him. “I’m scared she w-won’t be with me anymore...”

Avery squeezes Harry’s hand in tender comfort, lifting her head up to look at her father. She gazes at him quietly, grounding Harry with the warmth of her touch as he struggles to keep breathing.

“Don’t be scared, Daddy. Please. Don’t be scared…” Avery whispers gently, tiny voice so, so soft. “I know you’re brave inside. I _know_ it…”

Harry visibly breaks at the sound of her soft words, shoulders sagging as he lets out the heavy sob lodged in his throat that he can no longer contain. He holds on to her small hand tightly, grasping it for dear and precious life. Lately he’s been so caught up and focused on the miracle he wants, for Avery to get better, for her to be healed and whole once again. And while preoccupied with that, Harry overlooked the miracle she already is. From the very beginning, Gemma knew Avery was a miracle and every single thing about her since has only proved that to be true, from her premature birth, to her beautifully rare spirit, to all the pure joy she brings, she’s miraculous. Harry can’t even begin to imagine what his life would look like if it wasn’t for her, what detrimental path he would be on if she didn’t come along like the true miracle she is. All he knows is that this little girl saved his life.

Avery saved him.

And no matter how much his heart yearns, no matter how much his mind wishes, no matter how much his soul hopes…

Harry can’t save her in return.

“Daddy, I don’t want to leave you. I’d never want to leave you…but if you lose me I don’t want you to be alone, ok? And I don’t want you to be sad forever.” Avery mutters, fresh streams tracking down her cheeks to match his. “I love you so much and all I want you is for you to be happy.”

Harry shakes his head slowly, shutting his eyes tightly as the tears continue to rage down his broken face.

“He makes you happy, Daddy. You know that don’t you? Even my mom knew it. I know you’re sad right now because of me but…no matter what happens, you can’t be sad forever. You love him, Daddy. And you need him. Louis is your dream you never want to wake up from.”

She’s known all this time—of course she has, Harry shouldn’t even be surprised. But how is it that a nine-year-old is more in tune with his emotions than he is?

“He helps you and you help him. I can see it…I think you were made for each other.” Avery tells him, nodding her head a bit in confidence. “You can’t let being scared stop you from telling him that you love him. He’s your happy, Daddy…and you deserve to be happy.”

Harry crouches down to kneel in front of her wheelchair, hands resting on her knees. “Oh Avie, it’s n-not...it’s not that simple, sweetheart…”

“It is that simple. It is.” Avery maintains adamantly, leaning in closer to him. She reaches out to hold his wet face in her tiny hands, fingers brushing away his overflowing tears. “For me Daddy, be happy for me. Be brave for me.”

“I’m t-trying, baby.” Harry cries openly. She believes in him so much, even when he hardly believes in himself. “I’m really trying...”

Avery presses a long kiss to Harry’s cheek, hands still holding his head steady as she continues to try so hard to comfort her father.

“I hurt him, Avie…” Harry continues to sob in her gentle hands. “I’ve h-hurt him so much so many times. All I do is hurt h-him…And now I…I…”

“Daddy, you have to forgive yourself.” Avery tells him next. “You have to let go.”

He’s done exactly what his sister warned him not to do, allowing himself to be constantly governed by a horrible concoction of misplaced anger and stifled guilt. And it may not make the most sense to someone outside of his shoes, but nonetheless, Harry has never been able to forgive himself. Not for living after Gemma died, feeling guilty that he was the one to live and she wasn’t. Not for leaving Louis, carrying around all the regret and living with the consequences his choices granted him. And perhaps because of all the fault he always seems to find within himself, all the self-reproach that lies laden in his heart, Harry has been subconsciously sabotaging himself, punishing himself by steering away from all the things that could potentially make him happy. He hasn’t truly been living, only surviving.

“I think that everything happens for a reason, you know?” Avery thumbs Harry’s cheek affectionately. “I think there is a reason why we moved back to Seattle. I think there’s a reason why Louis is my doctor…I think there is a reason why he is back in our lives. We need him and he needs us too. And maybe everything was meant to bring you back together.”

“No Avie…no that’s…” The words get lost, Harry is lost. Lost to the cataclysmic stammering and stuttering of concepts he refuses to process, able only to faintly shake his head through his heavy tears.

“Sometimes I have this dream...” Avery starts, smiling a bit at him. “I’ve been having it all the time recently and sometimes it feels so real that I actually think it really happened. You and Louis would be happy together and I’d be yours—both of yours. We would be a family and we would have never, ever been apart and we would be really, really happy. But I dunno Daddy…maybe it wasn’t supposed to be like that yet. It’s sad…really sad but…maybe you were supposed to be apart for awhile…maybe you weren’t ready back then…maybe he wasn’t ready either...” Avery shrugs, still caressing his face. “I don’t really know why, but Louis came back in my life right when I needed him…right when you needed him too. I know how much it hurts you that I’m sick…how you wish it was different…but maybe it was never meant to be different, Daddy.”

Harry listens to her, oh how he tries to listen to his sweet innocent baby girl who has somehow always been wiser than her years indicate. And perhaps there’s truth to her words, perhaps there’s more meaning to all this than he dared to realize. It’s terrifyingly hard to change view and switch up perspective in the midst of so much pain that can’t seem to be explained. But his daughter, bless her pure heart, has the rare ability of seeing the positive side of things, however small, she somehow always sees the slight trace of good in the mountain of horribly bad. It takes a special kind of bravery to be able to do that, to be able to look beyond the pain and tragedy of right now and see the potential for happiness and joy in the future. And Harry knows she’s the good, Avery is at the very center of all the good in his life and all he wants for her is that she get the chance to experience something good too.

“I don’t think things are always supposed to make sense right away…but if everything happens for a reason then no matter why it happened, Louis coming back into your life isn’t an accident. And you can’t waste it Daddy, please don’t waste it. I know it’s scary, really, really scary, but you’re brave.” She whispers confidently, touching a hand to his trembling heart. “Be brave.”

And then she leans in toward her father again, tiny hands still holding onto his horribly tearstained cheeks as she presses gentle kisses to them exactly how he so often does to hers.  “I love you...I love you… _I love you_ …”


	15. fifteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvMdX2EQKJ_M8MtAOB5zXWs) for chapter fifteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi lovelies! 
> 
> um I'm the absolute worst and this is my latest update ever and its like i keep getting worse and worse and I'm so sorry! I've gotten so busy, but i appreciate all the messages and motivational words that some of you sent. thank you for being patient, i really do love you all :')
> 
> enjoy the update friends! (read it slow so that maybe it'll last you until the next time i update 24975938 years from now lol jk)
> 
> love lex .x

_fix it, rip the serrated seams and set it right again._  

||☤||

 

After spending the past three hours teaching a mandatory skills lab to the interns, Louis is more than ready to get back to his own work in the lab. It was good to take a break, healthy even, and teaching proper techniques to a group of eager students provided the perfect change of scenery for him, but now he needs to get right back to it.

In the past 48 hours, Louis has made several breakthroughs with the process of deriving the safest step by step approach for Avery’s surgery. The methods are nearly perfect in theory, each component thoroughly outlined, all he needs to do now is practice. There are about a thousand things that could potentially go wrong at each and any step of the procedure and Louis needs to be ready with a contingency for each instance. If there’s a potential for error, Louis wants to know about it beforehand, so he can develop a strategy to solve it before getting to the O.R. Nothing can be guaranteed in surgery and Louis would be foolish to believe he can account for every hypothetical setback he might run into during the operation, but he needs to be as prepared as possible. A procedure like this requires adaptation on his part, to be flexible and able to redirect and adjust the plan at will whenever necessary.

Which is why Louis’ current plan for the rest of the day starts with him picking up the strongest, most undiluted brew of coffee the café has to offer, and ends with him heading right back to the research lab.

“Uh…Dr. Tomlinson?”

Louis lifts his head up from the stack of intern skills evaluation forms he’s finishing up to see a very nervous, shy intern chewing on her lip in front of him. He offers her a pleasant smile, setting his pen down for a moment. “Dr. Wesley, how are you?”

Charlie has been especially cautious around him ever since Louis reprimanded her publicly in his O.R. a few months back. The air between them has been different ever since, not nearly as loose as it once used to be. Even though Louis still does see her quite a bit more than most interns because of her relationship with Niall, they still don’t talk as much as before.  

“Oh, I’m good, yeah, good...” Charlie nods repeatedly, shifting her weight side to side on each of her legs as she adjusts her glasses. “I just um…well, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while but um—thank you for always pushing me to be better.” She rushes out, stuffing her hands deep down into her lab coat. “It took me a little while, but I think I’m starting to get what you meant now…you know about how this job is more than just medicine and cutting and all that. Just watching how you treat all your patients, and you know, how passionate and caring you are about each of them—I don’t know, it’s really changed my perspective and I’m really sorry for how I acted a few months ago. You were right to say what you did and I’m glad that you said it. I’ve always admired you and I just…I want you to know that it really is an honor to learn from you, sir.”

Louis’ eyes crinkle into a genuine smile and he stands up from the desk to round it and stand before her, meeting Charlie’s eyes seriously. “You’re a good doctor, Wesley, a very good doctor. I wouldn’t be so hard on you if I didn’t honestly believe that. You’re just starting out, but you already have so much talent. I don’t know if you can see it just yet, but I can and I know you have the potential to be great someday. And I really want that for you, I want you to be an exceptionally great doctor. So if anything I do or say helps you achieve that, then as your teacher, I couldn’t be happier.”

Charlie looks touched by his words, looking up at him appreciatively. Louis meant every single word he said about his rising mentee, and he looks forward to all the many years of training together still to come, filled with moments like these where she is sure to make him proud as she grows as a physician. He was lucky enough to become good friends with his own mentor and he really hopes for a similar relationship with Charlie.

“And…I may also be hard on you because you’re dating my best friend.” Louis adds, teasing a bit as he offers a knowing smile.

Charlie laughs warmly.  “I’d expect nothing less.”

“Can I ask you something?” Louis wonders, tilting his head to the side. “Totally off the record and probably mildly unprofessional.”

She laughs again, smiling even wider as she nods. “Sure.”

“Please tell me that my bumbling nerd of a friend has told you that he loves you already. Because he’s been so unbearable recently, I really can’t take much more of it. He’s utterly ridiculous, that lad.”

Charlie gasps, flushing a light shade of red, apparently caught off guard. But she soon smiles bashfully, biting her lip as she nods her head. “Yeah he did, last night actually. Fucking _finally_.”

Louis’ eyes widen a bit in a mix of pride and surprise; proud that she and Niall are working things out and happily surprised that she’s becoming comfortable enough to curse and be more herself around him.

Charlie quickly claps a hand over her wildly unprofessional mouth, wide eyed. “Oh shit—I mean—I’m sorry, Dr. Tomlinson! I didn’t mean to say that—I mean I—”

“Oh please Wesley, it’s fine, relax.” Louis grins knowingly, waving off her useless apologies. Frankly, he curses all the time and he can remember being in Charlie’s position, wanting to impress his boss and always retain a level of professionalism. But what he absolutely loved about Dr. Carmichael is that she never put on airs and she didn’t give a single fuck; when it was just the two of them they always spoke candidly, no filters, and it really helped solidify their relationship both personally and professionally. “Fucking took long enough, didn’t he? The bastard.”

Charlie barks out an unexpected laugh, grinning back at him in amazement and Louis can tell she’s already loosening up. “Well, he was your friend first.”

“Well, I don’t think that quite matters now, I mean I’m not the one who’s slept with him.” Louis teases lightly. “He’s completely your problem now.”

“Not even once?” Charlie curiously questions.

And then it’s Louis’ turn to cackle in surprise, instantly shaking his head. “Fuck no! He’s practically my brother, that’s gross. Plus, he’s not nearly my type.”

“Hmm interesting.” Charlie shrugs a bit. “Well if we’re being totally honest, I always pictured a drunken night in an on-call room between you two, maybe as interns or something I don’t know…”

Louis gags in disgust and for once the roles are slightly reversed and he’s the one turning a faint shade of blush. “Jesus Christ. First of all, on-call rooms are a no, a  _huge_ no—nothing good ever comes out of an on-call room.”

“I feel like it’s quite the opposite, actually.” Charlie disagrees knowingly. “So much good comes out of them.”

“Ok, well you’re entitled to your wrong opinion, I guess.” Louis grins, while Charlie laughs. “And second of all, a drunk version of me and Niall have never and will never equate to us fucking. At most we’ve platonically cuddled in a bath tub—an empty tub, with clothes on. So that’s that.”

“That’s such a shame, he’s really great—like really, _really_ great.” Charlie emphasizes, sighing a bit to herself. “Especially in on-call rooms.”

Louis probably could have gone on for several more years without knowing his best mate is apparently a really good shag, but whatever, as long as they’re both happy, more power to them. “Thanks so much for that imagery, but I think I’ve had enough conversation about fucking Niall for one day.”

“Are you sure? Because I could go on, give you some real imagery.” Charlie jokes, both of them knowing she’s not really serious; there’s no way she could get through a conversation like that without transforming into a bright tomato.

“Oh, I’m more than positive.” Louis answers, chuckling. “But I’ve got a serious question for you now.”

“Alright, I’m listening.”

“So…as you already know, I’m mapping out the procedural steps for Avery’s surgery…” Louis starts, building up to the actual question. “It’s going to be a lengthy and complex procedure and I’m going to need an assist. My first thought was to elect a resident for the job, but you’ve been on the case since the beginning and you know the details inside and out, so I thought maybe I’d ask you to do it instead.”

“ _Me_?” Charlie gapes in genuine surprise, a typical response for an intern. Her eyes bug out almost comically as her mouth hangs open. “Wait—really? Like, you’re serious?”

“I’m absolutely serious.” Louis nods in a reserved way, although he is quite amused by her enthused reaction, as evidenced by the slight upturn of the corners of his mouth.

“Oh my god!” Charlie bursts, jumping up excitedly with a wide smile. That is until she realizes the embarrassing component of her reaction and she straightens herself back out, schooling her face into a more reserved countenance. “I mean—yes. I would. Yes, of course, I’d be honored, Dr. Tomlinson.”

“The surgery is scheduled in three days and from this point on I will require your complete devotion to the case. We’ve got to practice every step until we’re perfectly in sync, so it’ll be a lot of extra hours.” Louis explains to her. “You can basically kiss your life and your on-call room appointments with your good-in-bed-boyfriend goodbye for the next 72 hours. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes, sir.” Charlie answers confidently, looking him right in the eye, even though she still smiles amusedly at his joke. “I can, I’m ready, I swear. I know how much this case means to you and I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll study and practice all day and all night, if that’s what it takes. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“Excellent.” Louis claps his hands together, already appreciating her sincere dedication. Charlie is a very capable woman and he has no doubt that she’ll be a strong assist to him throughout the procedure. “Well let’s get to it then. I’ve got tons to brief you on before we get started and there can’t be a single mistake.”

 

||✚||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtgxwkIhH5M&index=2&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvMdX2EQKJ_M8MtAOB5zXWs&t=0s)

Harry’s lunch has gone cold.

It’s twenty minutes till one and his lunch has sadly gone cold despite the fact that Harry has been sat at this cafeteria table for the past hour. He knows he should eat, he knows he should at least try to put forth an effort, but he has no real trace of an appetite anymore, nothing matters anymore, nothing except for his daughter.

Harry’s been spending every last possible moment with Avery, avoiding work and his responsibilities as much as possible just to be with her. He could lose his job tomorrow and not care in the slightest; all Harry cares about is being there for his child. And the only reason he’s not physically with her right now is because she’s with Louis running tests, otherwise he’d be right there by her side, holding her hand.

Over the last few weeks, Harry’s spent so many nights lying curled up next to her, holding her desperately close in his arms despite how he can feel her slowly slipping away from him with each passing day. Harry hates it, god he _hates_ it—he’s hardly even coping anymore. And the worse it gets, the more his old, dormant urges start to arise, the urge to make himself numb, dull the pain away by drowning himself in a bottle of something utterly toxic.

But instead of drinking down his avoidance, Harry dares himself to seek acceptance for once, not wanting to take a single moment for granted because who knows what may come next. Not a day goes by that Harry doesn’t feel regret well up in his heart over how deep down in denial he was throughout Gemma’s last few months. She was here one moment and gone the next, it all seemed to happen in a blink, unpredicted and unplanned, leaving Harry without the proper chance to tell her how much he loved her.

And now with Avery, Harry absolutely refuses to let any of that happen again. He refuses to repeat the past and be caught so off guard that there is no longer enough time to express his feelings, he refuses to stop telling his daughter how much he loves her, over and over again until she’s probably sick and tired of hearing him say it. But Harry doesn’t care, because each time he says it could be the last time she hears it and he is determined to make it count.

Every passing moment together is precious, inherently sacred despite however they are able to spend their time. It may not sound like much, but simply watching a movie with Avery snuggled contently in Harry’s arms is always more than enough, spending an entire afternoon coloring in her many, countless coloring books while they chat about absolutely nothing is everything and more to Harry. And Harry’s arms are covered almost to his elbows in all the random bracelets they’ve made together, Avery repeatedly reminding him to give them out to people who need their day brightened around the hospital. Sometimes the two of them will go together and pass them out on the different floors of the medical center, attempting to make some kind of good come out of all this.

And all the while, he tries not to focus on how every day that passes she’s getting weaker, that much more tired. Oh how Harry tries not break down in tears when he notices that her laugh isn’t quite as loud anymore, that the exuberantly bubbling energy she has about just about everything is so horribly toned down. Even though Harry knows how much Avery is trying, her energy is falling far too low, her expressions are dim and her movements are drawn out and greatly slowed. And as much as it pains Harry’s heart to acknowledge in any capacity, he’s starting to grasp how little time she truly has left.

Louis is working so hard on perfecting her treatment plan, trying to get every component exactly right for her surgery. He tries to stay positive when he comes by to check on Avery, but Louis is as stressed out as Harry is, and Harry can clearly see the lines of worry on his brow when he notes Avery’s deteriorating vital stats and the heavy bags of exhaustion pulling under his eyes as he locks himself back in the lab. Louis is literally working himself to his breaking point and Harry knows that, he _knows_ —but yet he still can’t stop his tormented mind from worrying if it will be enough. Harry isn’t giving up, of course not, he would never, _ever_ give up on Avery. And he isn’t at all doubting Louis’ vast capabilities as a surgeon, because he is utterly brilliant in his field, but yet Harry keeps coming back to the same damning question over and over again, unable to derive an answer.

If all this isn’t enough, if all the efforts to prolong her life somehow fail, how will he ever come to accept it?

“Hello, Mr. Styles.”

Harry lifts his head up and is met by a warm, friendly face. “Oh um…Dr. Payne, hi.”

“Oh, Liam is fine.” He encourages easily, still smiling. Liam has a tray table balanced in his hands, stacked high with an assortment of healthy options, two different salads and a green smoothie.

“Call me Harry.” Harry reciprocates with a small smile.

Liam nods. “Enjoying your lunch, Harry?”

Harry briefly glances down at the cold, untouched container of tomato bisque soup paired with a grilled cheese sandwich, both items still wrapped and sealed despite the fact that he’s been sitting here for far too long. “Um…yeah…not so much eating it…but yeah…”

“Mind if I join you?” Liam wonders, leaning down a bit. “I was supposed to meet my boyfriend, but he got pulled into surgery last minute and I’ve never been a huge fan of eating alone.”

“No, please…” Harry easily gestures to the empty seat next to him. “Have a sit.”

Liam smiles again before seating himself at the table. “Thank you.”

They sit for a few moments in silence, not an awkward silence or anything, just an easy, compatible silence as they each begin opening up and unsealing their respective lunches.

“Nice bracelets.” Liam notes, tilting his head towards the vast array of colored bracelets decorating Harry’s arms.

Harry smiles out of the corner of his mouth, glancing to Liam. “Actually, I think you’re originally to blame for them. You and Zayn gave her that bead set for her birthday.”

“Oh, right, right.” Liam chuckles with a slight nod of his head. “Well I’m glad to see she’s hard at work.”

“Yeah.” Harry grins, looking back down at his decorated arms before moving to hold them both out for Liam. “Pick one.” 

“Oh, I couldn’t…” Liam shakes his head as though he’s imposing or something. 

“Please, Avery would want you to have one.” Harry insists again. “If she were sitting here with us right now, she would practically force you to have a bracelet, in fact she attacked Niall just the other day. You’re lucky she’s down in Radiology right now.”

Liam laughs at that, face morphing into another smile. “Well when you put it like that…”

Harry smiles back at him, arms still held before him. “And pick one for Zayn too. Just don’t take the purple elephant one because I’m starting to get really attached to it.”

“You would make the best one off limits.” Liam teases a bit, before picking a blue one made up of little turtle shaped beads and a second one consisting of red birds, slipping them both on his wrist for safekeeping. “Be sure to pass on my thanks to the lovely, Ms. Avery. She did a wonderful job with these.”

“Oh, I will, she’ll love to hear that...” Harry answers as his smile begins to fade, demeanor growing sad once again as he stares down at his covered forearms. He can never escape the sad, anxious feelings of fear for long, whenever he thinks of his daughter his heart pangs, sending him spiraling each and every time. But Liam seems to pick up on it, shifting his body towards Harry.

“Hey.” Liam doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around Harry’s shoulders, comforting him as if they’ve always been old friends. His hold is sturdy and solid and Harry instantly appreciates it more than he can say. “Hang in there, ok?” 

Harry stays quiet, but faintly nods his head in acknowledgement.

Liam rubs the side of Harry’s shoulder up and down soothingly. “I know we don’t know each other all that well but…it can be really lonely in a big hospital like this and if you ever…I don’t know? Need someone to talk to or just sit with you or anything…I got you.”

And it’s such a tremendous kindness, even if Harry never calls upon Liam in the future, the fact that he offered and was willing to be a friend to Harry, even without having a real, established relationship, means more than anything.

 

||☤||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6_Y0JZ00lZo&index=2&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvMdX2EQKJ_M8MtAOB5zXWs)

“Louis, what do you think it feels like?” Avery asks suddenly in an oddly serious, contemplative tone.

They’ve been walking the halls leisurely, Louis pushing Avery along the cold, hard linoleum hospital floor in a wheelchair. At first they were just going to get new bloodwork and labs, but once that was done they somehow ended up just touring the hospital together, Louis not in much of a rush until the results come back and Avery perfectly happy to talk her little heart’s content.

Louis welcomes it though, cherishing every last second of their completely random and frivolous conversation. It’s not as lively and high spirited as the many times in the past, but it’s just as unpredictable as it ever was. So far Avery has covered everything from the dire importance of identifying the true individual flavors of each colored M&M, because she is absolutely certain they are not the same no matter what anyone says; to insisting that ducks are, in her humble opinion, the superheroes of all birds, because they can walk _and_ fly _and_ swim and what other bird is that talented? Louis of course entertains all of it, easily going back and forth with her, never a gap in conversational flow.

But now the mood has shifted between them, eerily shifted, to a place that feels heavier somehow, thickening the very air between them in an almost ominous haze. There’s a dreadful seriousness suddenly hanging over them and Louis can’t quite place how it got there.

“What’s that?” Louis wonders slowly, cautiously, steering the chair down another similarly long, vacant corridor.

She pauses, head hung as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth before speaking again quietly. “Dying.”

Louis freezes, halting the wheelchair altogether in the dead of the empty hallway. He’s gripping the handlebars so tightly that his knuckles drain pale white and there’s a lump forming in his throat so big, he nearly can’t take in any more viable oxygen.

He stares straight ahead unseeingly, hearing that one damned word rattling around repeatedly in his suddenly blank thoughts and if he feels this way, Louis can’t begin to imagine all the doubts and insecurities that must be swirling through Avery’s adolescent mind. All the unfamiliar fear and newfound anxiousness consuming her thoughts as she faces the horrible unknown ahead of her and…she’s _nine_.

She’s only nine-years-old.

These aren’t the worries of a young nine-year-old girl; at her age she shouldn’t have to be burdened with dark, abstract concepts that are usually reflected upon after the end of a long and full life. Avery should be out in the world living freely as a child should, thinking about what summer camp she wants to go to, complaining about the weekly viola lessons her dad is signing her up for and all the time it’s going to take to practice, wondering what teacher she’ll have in the fall when she starts 3rd grade and if all her friends will be in her class again. She should only be concerned about the normal, everyday activities of a _kid_ , but she’s not able to think of any of those things, because they’re no longer promised to her.  

Louis clears his throat, dry and cracked and raw. “I...I don’t quite know I’m afraid…” He finally answers with his head bowed, even though he can hardly recognize the sore sound of his own voice. Louis doesn’t want to talk about this, he can hardly even force himself to briefly entertain the idea of it actually happening. His gaze falls down to the personalized bracelet fastened to his wrist, bright and radiant against his skin, the exact opposite of how he feels right now. 

“But…you’ve seen it before right? You’ve seen it happen? Like with my mom…”

And Louis can only nod his head weakly, a dazed expression recoating his features. Yes, he was there in the room when Gemma died, he was there when her heart put out its final parting beat, when her lungs expanded and deflated for the last time. In many respects he remembers every single detail of that moment because it changed so much for him, it changed _everything_ for him, but at the same time it also feels like a painful blur. A mirage of misconstrued memories blended together in time.

“Do you…do you think she was in pain when it happened?” Avery continues to wonder in the quietest voice Louis has ever heard echo from her lips, the sound of it nearly knocks him to his knees. “I think maybe it’ll be kinda like going to sleep or something…I dunno…but if that’s true…then I hope I have a good dream.”

_but you aren’t going to die…i can’t let you die…_

Louis wants to scream that she’s not going to experience that, all he wants is for her to know that she’s going to make it, that he is going to make sure that she lives on after this, but how can he so valiantly claim any of that? He doesn’t hold the keys to life nor does he have the power to ward off death. And although he’s been working so hard on her behalf, day in and day out, even with the best laid plans, life isn’t completely promised, complications can still arise and shit can still happen.

“I hope you’re in my dream.” Avery tells him softly, even though Louis is still standing motionless behind her. “You and Daddy and oh—Benedict! I can’t forget Benny…he’d be really sad without you, I’m sure—dream or not. I wish I could meet him…I always wanted a dog…”

Benny would absolutely adore her, Louis already knows that for a fact and she would completely spoil him just as he loves to be spoiled. Avery always loves when Louis shows her videos of him doing the strangest of things, being himself mostly. He’s such an odd pup, but Avery is utterly fascinated by him and every random thing he does and how Louis wishes that he could take her out of here so that she could really meet Benedict. In fact, Louis wishes he could take her out of here, take her far, far away, somewhere where problems like this no longer exist, somewhere where her body is whole and no longer sick, somewhere where she can be free to giggle and smile and _be_ , without worry or pain, carefree and alive. 

She lifts her head up to gaze back at him, practically looking at Louis upside-down from her chair, but her voice is faint and uncertain when she speaks again and it catches Louis’ heart off-guard. “You’ll remember me won’t you? Even if…even if something happens to me...you’ll remember?”

Louis sucks in a gasp of harsh breath, quickly rounding the wheelchair to kneel right down in front of her. He holds a soft, affectionate palm to her cheek and she tilts her head towards it, resting against his touch. “How could I ever begin to forget you, Aves?” 

_you changed my entire life, you are my life…_

Avery rests her own hand gently over his, still cupped to the side of her downcast face. There are so many unspoken questions pouring from her honey tinted gaze, so much so that the weight of them seem almost to age her past her young years and it tugs harshly on Louis’ barely beating heart. “But you’ll be ok? If something really does h-happen…you’ll be ok…right, Louis?”

_how could i possibly be ok when i love you this much…_

He doesn’t want to burden her or worry her with the unspoken truth inside him, but if there is one thing Louis knows without the slightest bit of doubt, it’s that he would not be anything near ok if anything were to ever happened to her. And with how she’s looking at him, earnest and questioning, Louis can hardly take it, let alone find an answer for her. He looks down for a moment, breaking eye contact as a tear spills from his eye.

And after Louis still doesn’t answer—can’t possibly find the words to answer, Avery pulls him in for a hug, gentle and impossibly warm. Her small arms circle around his neck, clinging to him. And all Louis can do is close his eyes and hold her against him, arms wrapped around her narrow back. He holds her and he holds her and he _holds_ her, not caring about the time that’s inevitably passing, or that they’re in the middle of the hall. All he has the strength to do is breathe her in, breath by breath, pulse to pulse, hoping that he doesn’t rip apart when they separate and he can no longer count the beats of her heart against his chest.

_i can’t let you go…_

“Oh please be ok, Louis…p-please...” Avery whispers desperately into his neck, hugging him so tightly, like she’s just as afraid to let him go. “I don’t want to have to worry about you too…”

Louis feels the awful, familiar groaning of his seemingly permanently broken heart and he pulls back enough to find saltwater in her eyes matching the heavy tracks of his own. He thumbs the teary sides of her crestfallen face gently, cradling her head. “You don’t have to worry about me, little love.”

She shakes her head, more tears welling up under her eyes as her small lips begin to quiver. “But I do w-worry about you, I do Louis. I can’t h-help it...I’m always worried—because my Daddy is already so s-sad about m-me and…and…I don’t w-want you to be sad t-too. I don’t want y-your heart to be b-broken again.” 

“Oh _Avery_...” Louis whispers tragically, tilting his head as he continues to gaze at her, feeling an ache stronger than he’s ever known. His eyes are stinging—burning, as more tears rage down his cheeks at uncontrollable speeds. And he’s not even trying to stop it from happening, not this time, not when his little baby is crying over him.

“I just want you b-both to be ok…you h-have to be o-ok…” Avery falls back into his arms again, sobbing heavily as she buries her face against his shoulder. Louis knows how much she cares about Harry, always worrying herself sick over her father, but the fact that Avery worries about Louis too, that she cares about him on a similar level is more than Louis can possibly process. All the time Avery is brave, she’s aware of the reality she faces and yet she still has the courage to be braver than her years warrant, but that doesn’t make her immune to fear. She’s still a child, fear or no fear, and Louis promised that he’d be brave for her, he promised he’d be strong for her no matter what, and that’s exactly what he’s determined to do.

So Louis rubs her back, palm moving in slow, drawn out circles in a weak but determined attempt to sooth her as her body shakes and trembles in his arms. “We’ll be ok…” He finds himself telling her, letting the words slip out from betwixt his lips, not knowing if it’s really true, not knowing if it could ever be true, just wanting _her_ to be ok, to feel safe and secure again. And he would put her wellbeing and peace of mind before everything, even before the truth. “Don’t worry love, it’s all going to be ok.” Louis continues, speaking as surely and confidently as he can muster, comforting the scared child in his arms. She only wants reassurance, something to hold on to and settle her mind. And Louis knows better than anyone that right now Avery doesn’t need the extra stress nor the extra strain on her body, all of her dwindling energy needs to go towards beating the cancer multiplying inside her. “No matter what happens, you don’t need to worry, darling.”

And Avery clings to him, all her limbs encircled around Louis as he continues to soothe her, speaking gently and calmly to her ear until the tears begin to settle. But it doesn’t stop her from keeping her arms locked around him, refusing to let him go. And Louis doesn’t at all mind that, because he is not quite ready to let her go either, and if he had his way, they’d stay like this in each other’s arms forever.

  

||☤||

 

“Dr. Tomlinson!”

Louis walks briskly through the pavilion towards the cafeteria, completely engrossed in his stack of impossibly detailed notes that outline the minutiae of Avery’s surgery scheduled for today. He’s spent every waking moment of the entire last day going over and over and _over_ every single aspect of his plan, hardly so much as talking to another soul apart from his diligent intern turned assistant, Dr. Wesley.

Whether locked behind the doors of the lab or walking from place to place around the hospital, Louis’ head is always buried deep in his notes, reviewing some aspect of the procedure to make sure he knows every step backwards and forwards and everything in between, trying to prepare for the unexpected and foresee the impossible. It’s one thing to know the scans and charts, memorizing each of them frame by frame, to deal with lifelike replicas and perfectly scaled models, but once confronted with the real tumor face-to-face, everything and anything can change in a moment’s notice and Louis needs to be one hundred percent ready.

“Dr. Tomlinson! Hey!”

Louis flicks his eyes up from his notes distractedly, not stopping his movements as he vaguely registers the voice calling his name. “Oh come on, not today…”

“Louis, stop! I have to talk to you!”

“Yes, yes, what is it—” Louis turns around to answer the insistent male voice beckoning him and is both disappointed and irritated that the man raging before him is none other than Jesse Ryland. “Oh, for fuck’s sake…” He grumbles under his breath, closing his notes with a heavy sigh.

“It’s all your fault!” Jesse dives right into it, not bothering with pleasantries and small talk as he angrily begins yelling in Louis’ face. “Everything was fine before you came along!”

“Get out of my face, mate.” Louis promptly turns back around and keeps walking in his intended direction, unbothered. He doesn’t need this shit today, he has enough to think about—too much as a matter of fact. In a manner of mere hours, he is going to perform a risky, basically experimental surgery, on a little girl that means more to him than he can put into words. He does not have the time or the patience or even the mental capacity to entertain this shit today.

“You just had to swoop down and play the hero.” Jesse continues, taunting Louis by repeatedly hindering his path, despite Louis’ determination to walk around him. “Who can even compete with that?!”

“Mate. Seriously. Stop, ok?” Louis groans, holding up his hands in exasperation. He turns around in the opposite direction just to avoid any more confrontation. He doesn’t know why Jesse is laying into him at this very moment, at this early time of day, neither does he care. All Louis wanted was a fresh cup of coffee before hightailing it right back to the lab. “I don’t have the time.”

“No, no I will not stop!” Jesse persists, jogging ahead to stand right in front of Louis. “This is my life that you fucked up!”

Louis’ avoidant attitude is rapidly shifting towards agitated, and it’s becoming harder and harder to bite his tongue any longer as his temper begins to flare up. “Look, why don’t you go put all the energy you have invested in hating me, into supporting Harry and Avery instead.” He suggests, narrowing his eyes. “Honestly, where the fuck have you been anyway? Not that it’s any of my business, but—”

“Oh, don’t taunt me now!” Jesse spits irritably, growing even more flippant. “You know good and well why I haven’t been around anymore!”

At that Louis pauses to frown, furrowing his eyebrows tightly together in confusion. “Uhh?”

“God, I’m sure you were over the fucking moon when Harry told you that we broke up. I can just picture your pretty, smug face.” Jesse laughs sardonically without humor. “You’ve wanted it from the beginning.”

Louis can only blink back at Jesse in disbelief, hardly believing what his ears claim to have heard. His mind is suddenly reeling, going into complete overdrive as his brain begins to process this new alleged information. But Louis couldn’t have possibly heard Jesse correctly, right? Maybe he wasn’t actually listening close enough, maybe he simply imagined it, or maybe, just maybe Louis didn’t mishear a thing. “You broke up…”

“This playing dumb act is getting so old.” Jesse grunts in irritation, shoving his hands through his dark disheveled hair. “You know exactly what you’re doing! You know what you do to Harry! You know the effect you have over him!”

“What I do to Harry…” Louis echoes in genuine confusion, pulling another perplexed face as he tries to conceptualize what exactly he is hearing.

“Fuck, you’re so annoying!” Jesse groans, throwing his head back, clearly frustrated. “You have a way of just pushing all my buttons and getting right under my skin! I hate it—I really wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t for you. I swear it never would have happened.”

“…Done what exactly?” Louis questions slowly, eyes narrowed.

“ _Cheated_!” Jesse yells as though it’s incredibly obvious and well-known information. “I would’ve never cheated on him if it wasn’t for you!”

Louis twitches as he blinks back at Jesse in what feels like slow motion. His body seems to exist in an alternate dimension of reality as his vision blurs to a heated red and buzzed static clogs his ears.

“You suck up all of his attention just by existing! And you don’t even have to try!” Jesse laughs self-loathingly, continuing on with his rant. “Things I had to work for _years_ to get out of him, he just hands right over to you on a silver platter. I had no idea who you were before all this, but hell, he sure did. And he never forgot. He may not have ever told me, but I knew there were things he kept from me. Once he saw you again, I never stood a chance.”

“What. The. _Fuck_!?” Louis bursts furiously, trying but failing to restrain his burning hatred for the god-awful man standing before him. He is fuming, literally and physically _fuming_ , so much so that he wouldn’t be surprised if stream started shooting from his ears. The only positive thing is that the pavilion they’re standing in is completely empty at this early hour. Good thing, because Louis feels like he is about to fucking lose it.

Jesse blinks guiltily at Louis, mouth falling open slightly. “He didn’t tell you…”

“You son of a bitch!” Louis shouts irately, involuntarily dropping his stack of notes to the ground in order to roughly shove Jesse down to the ground right with them. He doesn’t think, he doesn’t process, acting completely on raging impulse. And watching Jesse’s clearly shocked and caught off guard face as he hits the ground hard, has got be one of the most satisfying feelings in the world. 

“Don’t you think he has been through enough?! What the fuck is wrong with you!” Louis yells in unfiltered anger, standing over Jesse’s crumpled body, utilizing every bit of strength to not pounce down and beat the living shit out of him. Louis has no doubt that it would definitely be an even more satisfying feeling, to slam his fist against Jesse’s jaw and hope to god it shatters into dust, to make him feel even an ounce of pain. But no matter how tempted, Louis would never risk anything that could jeopardize Avery’s surgery. Punching Jesse in his deserving face as hard and frequently as Louis wants to, could potentially damage his steady, surgical hands, hindering him from operating. Plus, there’s an even more likely—practically guaranteed chance that he’d be suspended from practice, as well as arrested.

So instead Louis bends down to yank Jesse upright by the collar of his once sleekly pressed button up shirt and shoves him backwards against the nearest wall. Jesse yelps as Louis pins him against the wall, but Louis doesn’t at all care, getting right up in Jesse’ face.

“Why the hell would you put him through that on top of everything else?” Louis grits, both hands gripped firmly to Jesse’s collar, pressing against his throat.

Jesse’s grey eyes are wide and panicked, looking everywhere but back into Louis’ icy, narrowed ones. “I…uh…I d-didn’t mean…to…”

“Ooh, you didn’t mean to, well that just makes it all better doesn’t it?” Louis smiles in any way but pleasant, tone dripping with disdainful mockery.  

Jesse tries to wiggle around in Louis’ hold, but it’s no real use, not with the vice grip Louis’ got on him. “N-No…it…it was an…a-accident…”

“Right, cuz everyone _accidentally_ fucks other people behind their fiancé’s back. Of course.” Louis spits sarcastically, leaning in closer as he gives more pressure to his forearm wedged against Jesse’s neck until Jesse squirms again. “You’re a weak fucking asshole and Harry has always deserved better.”

A fleeting moment of bravery seems to come over Jesse and he locks his eyes onto Louis’, sneering at him in a knowingly taunting way. “What…and you’re better?”

Another surge of anger waves over Louis and he almost loses control and completely snaps. He shoves Jesse harder against the wall, gradually shaking his head as he blows out a stream of tense air. “I fucking swear to god, if I didn’t have the most important surgery today, I would beat you within every inch of your life.” Louis grits through his teeth, jaw clenched. “I have never in my entire life wanted to hurt someone with my bare hands as much as I want to hurt you...” Louis continues to shake his head, glaring at Jesse heatedly. “But you aren’t even worth it.”

And with all the reserve he has left, Louis finally releases Jesse, watching him cough and sputter as he hunches over his knees to catch his breath. Louis takes in his own deep calming breath, exhaling out all his malevolent urges. After marginally settling himself down, he flicks his gaze back over to Jesse with only disgust written in his eyes. “I don’t ever want to see you around Harry again and don’t even think about so much as looking in Avery’s direction. Hurt them again and I promise I won’t hesitate to fuck you up.” Louis pledges, meaning his threats with every last bone in his body.

Jesse has the audacity to attempt to look unfazed, even with his body crumpled over itself as he continues to gasp for breath.

Louis bends down to gather his scattered notes from the floor, but the simple movement seems to startle Jesse. And as Louis begins to right himself back up, he pump fakes his fist as if he’s decided to hit him anyways, causing Jesse to not only flinch, but fall backwards on his ass as he lets out a cowering whimper.

“That’s what I thought.” Louis smirks, standing over Jesse in disdain. He turns on his heel to walk away with his head held high, throwing his last words over his shoulder in a snarl. “Little punk ass bitch.”

And Louis makes it all the way to the far elevator doors before it truly hits him what all this means, realization dawning and halting him in his tracks. “Oh my god,  _Harry_ —I have to go find Harry...” He exhales to himself, suddenly filled with an overwhelming urge to find out if he’s ok.

Louis has no idea how long ago Harry found out about his ex-fiancé’s infidelity, but he knows how hard it must have hit him. On top of everything else. And since moving here, Harry has virtually no one else to really rely on for support when it comes to these things. The more Louis begins to think about it, the more Harry’s behavior in the past few weeks begins to make perfect sense and soon, before he realizes it, Louis’ casual walk has turned into a full out sprint, racing through the hospital as fast as his legs will carry him. He nearly knocks over an orderly holding a tray of water cups and as he rounds the next corner, Louis almost tramples a whole gang of med techs coming on shift. He meets their confused and startled faces with ample apologies, but he doesn’t slow down or stop in the slightest. And once Louis finally gets to the right floor, he’s still not in the clear, making a very near, unexpected call with an idle crash-cart and coming way too close to nose-diving right into an empty gurney left in the hall.

The nurses behind the station all give him the strangest of looks, pausing what they’re doing until one of them speaks up. “Dr. Tomlinson? Are you…alright?”

“Hi—no…I mean yes—fine—I uh… _shit_ —have you seen Harry?” Louis asks hurriedly, body nearly slamming against the side of the nurses’ station wall as he skids up to it, hardly stopping in time.

“Oh…um?” Julie, the charge nurse, continues to eye him curiously, pausing her notes. She sits up in her chair and takes her gaze off of Louis to glance around briefly. “He was just here a few minutes ago, they took Avery up for pre-op scans a little bit ago and I think he mentioned going for a walk?”

“A walk?” Louis echoes curiously.

“Mhmm.” Julie nods her head. “He seemed really tense earlier—so anxious, poor thing. I hope he’s alright. He could use the fresh air. He’s probably around the eastside pavilion, I think he likes it over there.”

“Right…” Louis nods hastily, already stepping away from the station, set to take off down the hall at a full sprint. “Thanks, Julie!” 

 

||✚||

 

The cool spring wind whips around the open breezeway, cutting between the tall hospital buildings and nipping at Harry’s chilled skin as he walks about the grounds. Paces, actually; what he’s doing could hardly be considered simply walking by any standard. With a lukewarm, three-hour-old coffee in hand, Harry paces to and fro, going absolutely nowhere but still unable to stop moving. He swears that he must have tracked a clear path into the pavement from the amount of times his heavy feet have shuffled across it in useless circles. He’s jittery, he’s anxious, and frankly, he’s a total mess of nerves and tension. The coffee probably isn’t helping his frazzled and jumpy state of being, but it hardly matters because it doesn’t change the fact that Avery is scheduled for surgery in a manner of hours.

He could lose her in a short, fleeting manner of hours.

It’s not a concept that he is taking particularly well, how could he? How could anyone for that matter? It’s exponentially terrifying, but the fresh air is somewhat good for his fogged head and walking around definitely beats sitting in Avery’s empty hospital room staring at the blank, unforgiving walls while she gets her final pre-op scans. Harry was driving himself utterly mad doing that, left to his own thoughts, trapped by his own mind, permitting fear to rise up like a monstrous wave of panic set to wipe him out.

It’s awful— _god_ , it’s so fucking awful. Harry can barely stand another minute of what feels like perpetual uncertainty. The surgery hasn’t even begun, it won’t for several hours still and yet he already can’t take it anymore. The waiting, the not knowing—all of it. If only there was a way to skip past this, avoid all the crippling worry and the steady, rising nausea and the undying panic and fucking bullshit that comes as a packaged deal with this horrible situation.  

“Harry!” 

Harry completely startles, jumping and nearly dropping the remainder of his coffee to the pavement as he hears the clear calling of his name. He turns slowly on his heel to see Louis jogging out from the automated sliding doors of the hospital.

“Louis?” Harry furrows his eyebrows, alarmed by the unusual urgency coating Louis’ tone. His expression is serious, yet solemn as he approaches and Harry immediately thinks the very worst. “What—are you—is Avery ok? Is the surgery still—” 

“Jesse cheated on you.” Louis blurts out abruptly, eyes searching Harry’s at a loss. He hasn’t presented his words as a question, but his expression silently asks for an answer.

Harry blinks in surprise, holding Louis’ gaze for as long as he can, trying to decide on the right response, on any response really, but nothing comes to him. That was the very last thing he ever expected to come from Louis’ mouth today of all days, and Harry doesn’t know how Louis knows or why he knows, but he must admit that he’s caught off guard by it. Slowly, Harry breaks eye contact in favor of looking down at his scuffed boots.

“That goddamn bastard!” Louis hisses venomously under his breath, taking Harry’s silence as further confirmation of the truth. He seems to get mad all over again, looking positively livid with his arms clenched tightly at his sides, body held horribly tense. His eyes are fiery with rage as he looks back over his shoulder towards the hospital doors, seeming to deliberate with himself. “God, I can’t fucking believe him! Son of a bitch—you don’t even know just how badly I just want to go back in there and fuck that man up…”  

Louis sounds so protective, genuine anger drenching his voice as he seems to take it upon himself to defend Harry’s honor. It’s the kind of person he is really, always ready to fight for anyone who’s been wronged or hurt. But Harry gradually shakes his head, dry, mumbled voice hardly audible over the sound of the whipping wind. “He’s not worth it…”

“I know but…” Louis gradually returns his gaze back to Harry’s face, his expression that was just so hard and frigid with wrath, impossibly softens to concern. His gaze is so warm and openhearted, Harry can’t even handle it for more than a few seconds, looking down again. Louis places a gentle, comforting hand to Harry’s shoulder as his voice also softens incredibly. “Harry, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, you deserve so much better.”

Harry can’t seem to make himself meet Louis’ eyes again. He wants to, he really does and it’s almost impossible to keep his eyes off of him for too long. But Harry also doesn’t want to risk his own involuntary reaction to the gentleness he knows he will find once again in Louis’ eyes. It’ll be too much. It’s always too much, knocking the very breath from Harry’s lungs time and time again.

“You’re already going through so much as it is…and I know finding out about it couldn’t have been easy to deal with…I hope you’re ok and I’m um…I’m just—so sorry.” Louis apologizes, words as sincere as the unwavering look in his eye. The hand he has rested on Harry’s shoulder is practically singeing Harry’s skin, the touch so magnetic. “When did you find out?”

“...The night I came over to your house.” Harry lifts his head slowly, biting at his lip anxiously.

“But...but why didn’t you tell me? You came over and…and—Harry?” Louis expression is riddled with confusion, taken aback as he seems to recall everything that happened, frame by frame. “Why did you come over that night?”

_don’t run, don’t run, don’t run_

Louis is looking at him expectantly, his piercing blue eyes are still so soft and open. And Harry wants to tell the truth, he wants to spill a million truths, but he’s also utterly terrified of what the truth will bring. The old tendencies hardwired into his inner core attempt to take over like some kind of sympathetic fight-or-flight response. He wants to run, he wants to scream, he wants to hide away from it all.

_come on, be brave…_

“Why did you come to me, H?” Louis asks again quietly, taking a small step forward. His voice is nothing but gentle, and his eyes are beautifully transfixing, compelling Harry to speak only truths.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQBROav8GY8&index=3&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVvMdX2EQKJ_M8MtAOB5zXWs)

“Because you’re home to me.” Harry admits, the words lingering softly in the air between them, rushed out of Harry’s mouth naturally without even needing to think much about them.

Louis’ lips part marginally in what appears to be surprise, as his breath hitches a slight inhale of sharp breath.

“Oh _fuck_ …” Harry curses at himself, walking around in small circles as he realizes what he just admitted, like his heart suddenly has a mouthpiece of its own. “I don’t know how to do this or if I’m ready to do this—I don’t know what to say or how to say it…I…” He rambles on, pacing the sidewalk with his hands anxiously racking through his disheveled curls. “I know it probably shouldn’t be this hard—or I don’t know? Maybe it should be…but I um…I…”

_be brave, be brave, be brave_

Why is it always so fucking difficult for him to just be honest? In the moment, in the very thick of it all, faced with a sudden opportunity to be utterly transparent with Louis about how he feels for once, Harry is nearly overcome with fear. He had already decided that he was going to finally express his true feelings to Louis, thanks to a courage borrowed from his brave daughter. But he wasn’t going to do it _now_ , when Louis is set to operate on Avery’s brain in mere hours.

No matter what happened after the surgery, Harry promised himself he would tell Louis how he felt, no holding back, just rip off the fucking Band-Aid already. The last thing Harry wants to do is distract Louis from being able to focus on the surgery or jinx it or something, but now that he’s already started, he can’t just leave it there, dangling unfinished between them, it’s now or never. And yeah, this very well may be the worst possible timing for a conversation like this, and he has no idea what he’s about to say, but Harry has learned that sometimes, the most unplanned confessions mean the most because they’re spilled from so close to the heart.

Harry pauses his anxiety-ridden steps, steeling up a mighty breath before he looks up and forces himself to lock onto Louis’ gentle, calming eyes, entirely unguarded, withholding nothing. And that’s when he feels it— _fuck_ does he feel it. Harry feels the brunt, unbridled weight of everything he’s been holding back for the entire decade since the very first time he ever laid eyes on the wonder that is Louis Tomlinson.

He feels the familiar warmth of their initial relationship, an easy, indisputable warmth that came so naturally to each of them, supported by a rare sense of safety and reassuring peace that never failed to encompass it. To connect with someone as quickly as they did, as deeply as they did, there’s absolutely nothing else like it. Utterly wonderful in every way, yet intense to a degree that almost doesn’t feel controllable, taking them both by storm.

But then Harry also feels the pain that stretched their relationship too far, the raw ache of unprepared loss that kicked him down to his lowest point. He remembers the exact sharp pang of loneliness from trying to isolate himself away from all feeling, numbing himself down to a shell of a person until all that was left was the devout urge to run and hide away. And when he finally did run, when he finally gave into his own selfish avoidance, the guilt that followed nearly ate him alive. There was shame in it, remorse in it, but none of what he felt after the fact will ever make up for what his choices subjected Louis to go through.

“ _Louis_...” Harry whispers his name out tragically, breathlessly, shaking his head without words as hot tears already begin to burn harshly at the corners of his eyes. “Lou, I—I am so _sorry_. Fuck, I’m so s-sorry. For everything…for how I treated you, for the terrible shit I said—you never deserved any of that, you n-never deserved—” He cuts himself off, frustrated with how much he needs to say, but not being able to say it fast enough or well enough or fuck. And the tears aren’t helping, tears that are teetering on the verge of becoming full on sobs, lodged wetly in his already closed up throat. “I s-shouldn’t have ever l-left you…I…I shouldn’t have left things like I d-did…it was a-awful and I h-hurt you—I know I hurt you so m-much and now I…I just…I f-feel like— _f-fuck_ …”

Louis takes a slight step closer, and the nearing proximity of his body to Harry’s is all he longs for, all he needs, but not all that he deserves. “Harry, hey…it’s ok—”

Harry shakes his head even more sporadically, swiping at each of his eyes. He didn’t expect himself to react so emotionally, so suddenly, but considering the year he’s had and the years that came before it, it was practically bound to happen. “No, don’t s-say it’s ok, it’s n-not ok…it’s not…I…I feel like I basically r-ruined your life…a-and I don’t even know how to say how s-sorry I am.” He sobs, sniffling in an attempt to breathe as his shoulders start to shake. “You l-lost your entire family…a-and…and I d-did that to you a-again…I left y-you alone again—you were b-barely ok…you w-were…you were already h-heartbroken and I l-left you and I h-hate myself for that—for causing you any more p-pain. You were right a-about me Louis, you were right about a-all of it…I am just a s-scared, selfish coward and…I do run from e-everything just because of how afraid I am…but I d-don’t want to be. I w-want to be— _god…”_ Harry’s cries get the best of him and he looks up, fighting against himself. “I want to be b-brave and I want to b-be strong. For Avery…for you...b-because…I…because…”  

_be brave, be brave, be brave_

Harry roughly scrubs his hands over his face, dragging his palms down his wet skin as he tries to breathe deeply. It’s hardly working but he tries again and again, refocusing his thoughts, while attempting to make sense of the mess floating around in his head. And in the process he somehow manages to get ahold of his flowing tears, at least for now.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out—trying to make sense of how I really feel about you.” Harry tries to explain, finding it hard to verbalize his emotions when they’re overwhelming him to such an immense degree. “I have so many feelings and memories and emotions tied up in you and around you and…I just couldn’t make sense of it for the longest time… I wasn’t ready to make sense of it, I don’t think…” He reflects, being more transparent and real with himself than he ever has been in his life. “Because you were a huge part of one of the darkest points of my life, and whenever I thought about that time, all I could feel was pain and loss and…it hurt too much. So I’ve been running from it….and I don’t know—somehow I thought starting over would fix it—fix  _me…_ so I ran and I tried not to ever look back. But it didn’t fix me…it really didn’t, Louis. It only made everything worse.”

“And I kept telling myself that I only left because you wanted me to go...because I was a burden to you and...because we were always meant to say goodbye…as though it was the best decision for both of us…but I knew that wasn’t true. Deep down…I k-knew…” Harry admits despondently, shaking his head as his emotions begin to rise back up again. “But I still kept telling myself anything to feel better about leaving, to mask the guilt of l-leaving you behind…and eventually I really s-started to believe it. I pretended to forget, forced myself to erase the truth and I made you into something you never were just to make the days pass easier…b-but really…you’re _home_.” Harry breathes out heavily around the word coming straight from his heart, feeling every sense of its meaning as he gazes into the serene blue of Louis’ peaceful eyes. “That’s what you are to me. You were my only light throughout that horribly dark time. And this w-whole time I’ve been fighting coming back home…r-running away from home. But…you’re the warmth…and the comfort, the safety…it’s _you_. It’s always been you, Louis. Everything I ever knew lives in you.”

Louis’ gaze is wide, mouth held slightly open with no sound coming out of it. A heavy pool of saltwater is building under each of his eyes, threatening to begin falling down his cheeks at any moment. And Harry knows that it’s a lot to take in at once, but now that he’s started to finally tell Louis the truth, he feels like he could never, ever stop. Harry has so much more on his heart that he needs to say and the more he talks, the more he releases, the bolder he feels and there’s nothing he wants to hold back anymore.

“Louis, I think about you like a continuous stream of consciousness, even when I’m not with you, my thoughts somehow always drift right back to you. I wake up thinking about how soft and thoughtful your eyes are, your gentle blue eyes that never seem to miss a thing…and I fall asleep dreaming of your sweet face, one look from you and I’m in perfect peace. And your laugh—god Louis, your laugh…I think it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard and I could listen to it for as long as I live.” Harry confesses wholeheartedly, lips slowly spreading into a watery smile. “Your arms are the safest place I’ve ever been; I’ve never felt more secure than when I’m surrounded by the strong hold of your arms around me. And you’ve got a heart like no other, brave and fiercely kind, and I’m so in awe of the courageous spirit that captures you.”

“Everyday I find myself completely revolving more and more around you and it’s like? It’s like…I’m on fire. I’m on fire all the time when you’re near me and it’s overwhelming and terrifying yet wonderful all at the same.” Harry describes breathlessly, more unfallen tears building behind his eyes. “I was kidding myself to think that there was nothing between us anymore. Kidding myself trying to ignore the fact that when I first came back here and saw you again…my heart stopped. It completely stopped. It only took seeing your face one more time to fling me right back to the past in a single second. All those memories and things I’ve been running from, hit me at full force with just one look into your eyes…and time has done absolutely nothing to erase how I really feel about you, no matter how much I thought it would.”

Harry lets out a new weighted breath, shaking his head at another loss. “God—and it’s so hard because while I feel all this for you…I can’t stop thinking about how much I really fucked up…how much I know I irreparably hurt you and all the scars you must have...but no matter how hard I try to let you go…I still can’t help but…l-love you…” Harry’s already weak voice falls to a whisper, thick tears rolling down the curves of his face. Louis looks startled by the words, seeming to hang off of Harry’s every breath. And all Harry wants to do is say it again, stronger this time, louder, as loud as he feels it thumping and running constantly through his very veins. “Louis, I love you and it’s the only thing I know for certain anymore. I love you…I’m in love with you…I j-just…I _love_ you.” He confesses repeatedly through overwhelming tears, saying the sweet refrain over and over aloud because he can’t find it in him to stop. Now that it’s finally free and out of his mouth, Harry never wants to stop.

And Louis’ face breaks enough for his own tears to fall in steady steams along his cheekbones. He bites down on his lower lip to keep from fully sobbing, but his emotive eyes don’t dare shift away from Harry’s.

“I have always loved you…more than I ever thought possible and I know I should have told you sooner and properly apologized sooner—I should have done so many things differently. And I’m sorry that I lost myself for so long…I’ve been scared to say it and scared to admit how I feel…but I’m not scared anymore and that’s because of you and because of Avery. You make me brave and you make me strong…you make me _feel_ …” Harry breathes out, seemingly for the first time. “Feel things I don’t want to…feel things I need to. You make me feel alive again even when I thought my heart was dead. You were there for the hardest times of my life—I lost my balance when I needed it most, but you were always there to steady me…and when I’m with you…I’m just…I’m _home_.” He repeats again, knowing that it is the truest statement he has ever made. “And I know you’ve said that you aren’t strong enough for this, but you are the strongest person I have ever known. You endlessly inspire me Louis…everything about you inspires parts of me I never knew existed and I’m left more and more in awe of you every single day. There’s not a damn fucking thing that makes sense in this life…and I never know what I’m doing…but I do know, now more than ever, that I need you to survive it. I need you, Louis…”

“H-Harry…I…” Louis stutters, sounding utterly overwhelmed as he speaks for the first time. He looks genuinely shell-shocked, breathing heavily with his mouth still slightly held open, expressive eyes leaking more silent tears. He blinks a few times, shaking his head at a loss as he tries to form words that don’t seem to be coming.   

“No, don’t. Please don’t, Lou…” Harry whispers desperately before Louis can say another thing, taking a few steps closer to him. “Don’t tell me I’ve already ruined things for us, don’t say it’s too late…not yet…not right now…I…I can’t handle it— _god_ , fuck, I really c-can’t…” He ends up letting out a wet, watery laugh, not because there is anything particularly funny about any of this, but because he truly is an overwhelmed mess and this doesn’t even feel real. His emotions are so out of whack and overstimulated that he can hardly react normally. “Maybe if I loved you right the first time, then I wouldn’t need a second chance. But I d-didn’t…and I couldn’t be more sorry for that. Whether by some miracle you still feel something for me or even if you don’t and you fucking hate me, I don’t want to know your answer till after—I didn’t even want to tell you how I felt before the surgery…I was going to wait and figure out how to say it properly so that maybe it would make more sense…but I don’t know? Maybe it’s better that you know…maybe I would have completely lost my nerve or something…I don’t know—fuck—but now that I’ve said it and you know...I don’t want to hear your answer yet.”

Louis stands stunned, expression drenched in so much confusion, they could both probably drown in it. But god, does he look beautiful, breathtaking and absolutely gorgeous, staring back at Harry with eyes as blue as The Pacific shoreline, and all Harry wants to do is close the last breadths of space between them and seal his lips to Louis’ in a kiss. He wants to pull him in close, flush to his chest, and bury his tongue in Louis’ mouth until they both get utterly lost in it, so lost that somehow they’re found. Harry wants to gently cup Louis’ face between his palms, trail his fingers along his temple and kiss him with all the passion and want that’s been forced to lie dormant under their charged skin for the past decade.

A sudden beeping begins to sound from one of Louis’ pockets, but Louis doesn’t even seem to notice it in the slightest, eyes locked steady with Harry’s as though he’s afraid to so much as move. Harry can’t even gauge how Louis is reacting to all that he’s just said, the only tangible emotion readable across his stunning features is shock.

“I must sound so fucking ridiculous right now—the least eloquent I’ve ever been in my life but I…I just want you to know—or I want you to understand that no matter what happens today, I’ll still feel the same. I’ll _always_ feel the same about you and I’m not taking it back or backing down from my feelings this time.” Harry promises earnestly, unable to stop the water from trickling quietly down his cheeks. “And I’m totally underprepared for what that might mean but…I don’t care. I really don’t care because I am completely and totally in love with you, Louis Tomlinson.” Harry’s lips spread gently, words whispered like soft, billowy clouds, earnestly pouring directly from his defenseless heart. “I always have been...”

Louis’ eyes, wet and shining, never once leave Harry’s, but his breath hitches again and it’s truly the only tangible indication Harry can gather that Louis is still breathing. He has yet to silence his ringing pager, yet to even move, held captive under Harry’s soft, loving gaze.

“And as long as it takes…” Harry begins to pledge, putting his entire soul and his entire heart on the line, leaving himself vulnerable and exposed to Louis alone. “I promise I will prove my love for you.”


	16. sixteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtsA8ic0L7tB7iPtZ0pbm2O) for the chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends! i hope you've all been well :') thanks so so sooo much for all the messages and comments and nice words, i can't tell you how much i appreciate it and it really does help me with the updates so thank you, thank you :)
> 
> um...so...i think this chapter is kinda stressful?? like?? idk y'all...i was stressin up a storm when i was writing it and i already know what happens so idk...be safe fam. 
> 
> lol I'm kidding, it's not //that// bad...well...you'll see i guess 
> 
> love you all!
> 
> lex .x

_fix it, breathe new life back into it._

 ||☤||

Louis is hardly watching where his legs are carrying him, barely cognizant of the path he’s somehow found himself taking. One step at a time, he stumbles through the halls of the hospital feeling like he’s going through some sort of fever dream. His mind is split between two different places and neither of them is the present.

Minutes ago Louis’ heart and mind were swept up into a sudden whirlwind, nearly causing all elements of time and space to stop altogether. Everything happened so fast—the confessions, the tears, the declarations, the promises—that now it hardly feels like it really happened, everything swirling around in his overloaded head in broken fragments. Sort of like having a hazy, distant dream that can’t quite be reached, slipping just past the realm of tangible memory. The only reason Louis knows that it really did just happen is because his heart rate is still racing out of control and key words and phrases keep jumping out at him at random.

_i am completely and totally in love with you, louis tomlinson_

But there wasn’t time to react, to _feel_ —not when his pager started beeping emergently. Louis was in no way prepared for any of the words Harry spoke, but god does he want to stop and dwell on all the soft, sweet words Harry said to him out there under the breezeway. Pause just to piece them all back together, pick apart every last line in his head, replay the emotion frame by frame, relive through the sound of passion growing strongly in his voice.

But there’s not any time for that either, not when the page has something to do with Avery. Once Louis had finally pulled himself together enough to snap out of it and realize his pager was going off, he had no choice but to dart right back into the medical center, doing his best to push everything else out of his mind. But he’s not even had the chance to catch his breath, feeling like everything around him is moving far too fast for him to keep up with.

And compiled with the mountain of worries Louis already had on his plate for today, it’s safe to say that he’s not standing on the most stable ground, mentally speaking. Which is definitely not a good place to be, especially not as a neurosurgeon. A neurosurgeon set to operate in a few hours’ time.

“Oh, Dr. Tomlinson!” Charlie meets him at the nurses’ station. “Thank god you’re here.”

Louis is already on alert, zoning in his complete focus, although his pulse still hasn’t settled back to normal. “What’s wrong with her? Where is she?”

“No, she’s ok—she’s alright…stable as of now…I um…I just brought her back from pre-op scans, but I had a little problem with her central line. It was accidently removed during her scans.”

“Oh…” Louis exhales a massive breath of relief, feeling his pulse start to settle down gradually. As long as she’s not in any sort of critical condition, he can breathe a bit easier.

“Yeah and um—I mean, I could try to do it for her, but I know she likes it best when you do it, and I think she really wanted to see you…so I thought I’d let you know before I did anything…” Charlie explains, rambling a bit as she talks. “I hope that’s not a dumb reason to page you—you told me earlier to page you right away if anything happened with her so I um…I just wanted to follow your instructions.”

“Yeah, Yes, thanks, Wesley. I’ll do it for her, it’s ok.” Louis nods slowly. It’s not an emergent task, or even a task that requires loads of skill or advanced practice, but Louis understands that it’s a task that’s somehow become a bit of a thing between him and his favorite girl. And that in itself makes it important.

“The nurses and I haven’t finished prepping her yet, but she’s back in her room now.” Charlie debriefs him. “She had 0.3mg of morphine two hours ago and it made her sleepy, so she may not be awake when you go in.”

Louis nods his head again. “Ok, thank you.”

When Louis gets to Avery’s room, he finds her peacefully asleep as Dr. Wesley thought she would be, lying calmly in her bed like a serene little angel. She looks so content, Louis doesn’t want to wake her and he doesn’t for a while, simply watching the small tuffs of breath rise and fall from her chest as she rests. Before coming to sit down beside her, Louis gathers all the necessary supplies to start a new line for her, placing all the items on a tray.

“Aves.” Louis whispers gently, voice filled only with warmth as he leans in towards her. She stirs slightly at the gentle call of her name, but doesn’t fully wake.

He rests a tender hand to the side of her face, thumbing over her cheek. “Avery, darling.”

Her eyes flutter open slowly this time as she blinks awake with a little yawn. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Louis smiles, tilting his head with his hand still cupped to her cheek. “I’m sorry to wake you, love.”

“Is it time for my surgery already?” She asks quietly, uncertain in the way she lifts her head.

“Not quite. Almost though, you’ve got a bit more prep to do first.” Louis tells her. “But before we can do that, you seem to have somehow lost your IV.”

Avery glances at her arm, seeming surprised to find the small tube missing from it’s usual spot. “How’d that happen?”

“You tell me.” Louis grins, narrowing his eyes.

“I didn’t pull it out, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Avery defends, narrowing her eyes back to match his expression.

“Oh, of course not.” Louis smiles wider, shaking his head obviously. “You would _never_ do such a thing.”

“I wouldn’t, I promise.” Avery insist again, sitting up just to prove how serious she is.

Louis fondly laughs a little, knowing fully well she never would tamper with it. “Hmm well, regardless of how it happened, I’m here to put it right back in for you.”

“Alright...” Avery nods gradually, sounding timid all of a sudden as she lowers her gaze down.

And although Louis has done this for her countless times over the passing months, Avery doesn’t seem as confident as she usually does. She’s gotten so familiar with the whole process of placing her central line that she often likes to direct Louis through the steps, seeming to know them as well as he does. Louis always plays along, going so far as to purposely forget steps just so that Avery has the opportunity to correct him.

Louis thinks back to the very first day he ever gave her an IV and how absolutely terrified she was. Today is no different it seems, but he knows that this time Avery is terrified for a whole other reason, a much larger, far scarier reason.

And to be perfectly honest, Louis feels terrified too. Like he’s barely holding himself together against the rising pressure stacking up against him. He doesn’t want to admit it but he’s starting to doubt himself, question things he was once so certain about and Louis can’t tell if it’s just nerves getting the best of him or if there is true cause for him to doubt. There’s so much on the line, hanging in the balance and it’s all starting to have an effect on him. Knots have been winding up in his stomach all day, twisting and turning, forcing Louis to realize that’s he’s not nearly in the right headspace for a procedure as severe as this and he only has a few more hours to find a way to get his mind right.

But in the meantime, Louis is determined to put Avery at ease, at least for a little while. Cause her to smile or get her to laugh, something to take her mind off things. Louis may not be able to do it for himself, but he knows he can do it for her.

“Hey, where’s Lemon? He usually joins us for these sorts of things.” Louis asks, attempting to redirect her perceivable anxiousness.

Avery shrugs, lifting her gaze back up. “I don’t know, I really miss him though. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Oh, well that’s no good.” Louis frowns to himself; and come to think of it, he hasn’t seen Avery with her prized stuffed walrus in quite some time, maybe even months, which is definitely unusual. “I’m sure he’ll turn up soon, love. He must miss you too.”

Avery nods her head quietly, but that look of anxiousness hasn’t left her face. In fact, it seems to only be getting worse as the reality of what happens today must start to really hit her, taking a toll on her entire affect.

“Do I need to get one too?” Louis asks softly, going for a joke, but somehow it feels so much heavier than that. “Would that make it any better?”

Avery smiles a bit, but still shakes her head no. There’s a storm brewing in her eyes, casting a darkening shadow over her usually bright features.

“Are you sure, Aves?” Louis tries again, willing to do anything to ease her worries and make her smile again. He already knows it’s not the central line that’s worrying her in the first place, but he still only wants to help in any way he possibly can.

She responds with another faint movement of her head, and Louis hates how defeated and scared she looks, it’s not at all like her.

Louis slips gloves onto his hands, moving the tray containing the supplies within reach. But before he starts the process of placing her central line, Louis looks to Avery again. “You’re not going to tell me what to do today? You love doing that.”

Once again she simply shakes her head soundlessly, not even meeting his eyes this time.

“But how will I ever get it right without your help?” Louis reminds, speaking softly to her.

She shrugs, head remaining bowed.

“Ok, well it’s your arm so if I mess up, it’s your problem, yeah?” Louis lightly teases, which somehow gets Avery to crack a smile. A very small smile, but still a smile nonetheless.

Louis smiles back as he ties off the tourniquet and sterilizes her arm. But when it comes to the next step, he purposefully pauses. “Hmm…I can’t remember if it goes like this or like this...” Louis ponders dramatically to himself, frowning at the 26-guage butterfly needle in his hand as though he’s never used one before. “Guess I’ll just have to try it out and see…”

He begins to align the needle with her most prominent vein, but deliberately does it upside down, going on as if he has no earthly idea what he’s supposed to be doing. “This seems right, doesn’t it?”

“No…” Avery peeps quietly.

Louis raises an eyebrow at her curiously. “No?”

“No.” Avery shakes her head a few times. “That’s not the right way…”

“It isn’t? _Really_? Are you 200% sure? Because I could have sworn on my life that it’s always been like this.”

“Nope, it’s that side first.” Avery points to the right side of the needle, using her free hand to rearrange Louis’ hands into the proper position.

“Oooh, you’re right, yeah.” Louis nods, awing at her. “Wow, that would have been sooo bad, huh? Good thing you’re here to help me.”

And it’s stupid and silly for him, as an experienced and practicing doctor, to pretend like he can’t even manage such a simple thing as placing an IV, but no matter how silly it might be, it still gets another growing smile out of her. And it won’t be the first time, nor the last where Louis choses to make an absolute fool out of himself for the sake of seeing one smile from Avery.

“And correct me if I’m wrong but it goes in your elbow too, right? It’s both sides of your arm, yeah?” Louis asks sounding perfectly serious. He even goes so far as to use an extra swab to sanitize the back of her arm around her elbow.

“No, Louis!” Avery smiles even wider, trying not to laugh. “It’s just the front side!”

Louis pulls an exaggeratedly shocked face, gasping out in apparent confusion. “What? Really? No way!”

“Yes, really. It’s right here.” Avery points to the sterilized fossa of her inner arm. “And _only_ right here.”

“Oh, duh.” Louis rolls his eyes goofily at himself. “That would make way more sense, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, silly. So then you just press on my little veins a few times until they get puffier.” Avery directs knowingly. “Then you take the safety clip thing off and line the needle part up to my arm.”

Louis follows each of her directions exactly, feeling a bit proud that she’s picked up on so much. “Ok, now what do I do?”

“And then you smile at me and say, ‘take a deep breath for me, love’.” Avery instructs, mimicking how she thinks his accent sounds.

“Take a deep breath for me, love.” Louis repeats gently, meeting her eyes as he smiles widely.

Avery grins, inhaling slowly through her nose. “And then you tell me that it’s just going to be a little pinch and you push the needle into my arm in a way where it doesn’t really feel that bad and I don’t feel scared anymore...”

“Just a little tiny pinch, Aves. I promise it’ll all be over before you know it.” Louis whispers calmly, thumbing right above her arm with his free hand to soothe her. And he means his soft words in more sense than one, knowing how much she needs them. Louis pushes carefully on the needle in order to slowly puncture her skin, securing the line properly.

Avery lifts her gaze up to Louis in appreciation, eyes as warm as melting honey. She takes one of his hands, linking it with her own and holding it up to her heart. “Thank you, Louis.”

Louis nods his head silently, understanding exactly what she means and he leans in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. And he feels his throat closing up as he does it, emotions already threatening to once again get the best of him. And they probably would have if it wasn’t for Dr. Wesley and a few nurses walking back into the room to finish prepping Avery for surgery.

“I’ll see you in a bit, love.” Louis whispers to her before pulling back. He gives her one more watery smile he can barely manage before slipping out of the room, feeling even more uneasy than before. The surgery may be happening in a few hours, but Louis desperately needs a time out. He needs a mental pause, something to reframe his mind and allow him to regroup before this all gets started and he finds himself drowning in a sea of his own rising doubts.

 

 

||☤||

  

“There you are.” Niall sighs in what sounds to be relief as he rounds the deserted corridor of the lowest level in the medical center.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y98cacdM3Dw&t=0s&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtsA8ic0L7tB7iPtZ0pbm2O&index=2)

Louis is sitting silently, cross-legged on an old gurney in the basement. Just sitting. Thinking. Hardly moving, as he stares down at the dull, outdated tile patterns that were never updated like the main hospital floors recently were. As interns and residents, they would come down here all the time to take a break from the hectic stress that seems to always be going on upstairs. It’s the perfect place to study or take a quick nap or just… _think_.

“I had a feeling you might come down here.” Niall reveals, taking a few steps forward.

Louis wandered down here unseeingly after leaving Avery’s room and he hasn’t moved since. To be honest, he doesn’t even know how long he’s been down here, completely transfixed by his own soaring and spiraling thoughts. It couldn’t have been too long though, otherwise he would have already been paged to the O.R.

Niall hops up on the gurney next to him, plopping himself down until he gets comfortable. They sit in silence for a few moments, Niall swinging his hanging feet back and forth. “Are you nervous about the surgery?”

Louis offers no response, gaze still trained on the linoleum tile. It’s quite ugly tile, if he’s honest. Shaded in a pale, faded blue, arranged in a repetitive geometric pattern most likely from the late 80’s. But despite the tile’s age, the pattern is oddly calming at the same time and Louis can’t help but completely zone out while staring at it.

“That’s normal, you know.” Niall continues talking anyway as he usually does. “It’s essentially a brand new procedure that’s never been properly tested before now. Anyone in your position would be nervous. In fact, I’d be worried if you weren’t nervous.”

Louis can feel Niall’s watchful eyes on him, feel him assessing his every move and every breath, waiting for him to speak up and say something. But Louis has no idea what to say right now.

“But you’ve got this.” Niall reassures positively, as though he believes it without a single doubt. “If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.”

The worst part is that the surgery itself isn’t even all that Louis is thinking about anymore. It should be—it _was,_ but now everything feels so much more complicated than that. And Louis can’t, for the life of him, regain composure and get himself to focus. He thought by coming down here he could effectively process it out and hone in his thoughts, but it seems the opposite has happened and now he’s overthinking every damn thing.

“Lou.” Niall prompts, urgent enough for Louis to lift his head, but soft enough to not sound forceful or rushed. “Hey. Talk to me.”

Louis shakes his head, still at a loss for words. Everything feels like a mess, a jumbled muddled mess that he can’t quite sift through. He doesn’t know where to start, but he keeps coming back to the sound of Harry’s voice just an hour ago when he poured his entire heart out at Louis’ feet. He can still hear each and every one of Harry’s words bouncing around his mind like timed symphonies, going off like awe-inspiring fireworks again and again, sparking fits of wonder and joy, but also dredging up a newfound uncertainty. “Um…I mean he um…”

“What?” Niall frowns, waiting for Louis to finish his mumbled sentence.

Louis shifts his gaze to Niall and just opens his mouth and says it before he can dwell on it any longer. “Harry told me he loves me...” 

To his credit, Niall’s expression doesn’t reveal any sort of shock or question, in fact it hardly even moves. “He’s really got some timing, doesn’t he?”

Louis scoffs a bit at that, the sound morphing into a sigh.

“You know, I feel like we just had this conversation, except it was me telling you.” Niall notes, seeming to find something mildly amusing about the whole idea. And Louis supposes that it is a bit ironic when he thinks about it. “Alright…well, did you say it back?”

Louis shakes his head. “He didn’t let me or—I mean…he didn’t want me to give him an answer until after Avery’s surgery.”

“Did you want to say it back?” Niall adjusts his question subtly.

“I—I don’t know? Yes. I think, _yes_ —but…” Louis didn’t want to just say it back, he wanted to scream it back as loud as his windpipes could sustain. He sighs again, running a frustrated hand through his hair as he tosses his head side to side. “I don’t know—maybe it's a good thing I didn’t give him an answer, you know? So then if this all goes bad he can just move on...”

Niall’s entire face scrunches up into a disgruntled frown, looking to Louis incredulously. “What the fuck are you talking about, Louis?”

Louis sighs again, heavier this time and even more frustrated, feeling as though he should have just kept his mouth shut about all this.

“No, seriously. What the fuck? You can’t be—”

“He will never forgive me if she dies, Niall!” Louis bursts out in a rush, trying his best to explain the chaotic mess of thoughts scrambled through his mind. Oddly this is the only thing that makes perfect sense in his head, it almost makes too much sense. “How could he ever forgive me? I…I wouldn’t even forgive myself…” His voices dies out, the vulnerable honesty of his words lingering thickly in the air between them. Louis goes back to staring at the ugly, yet calming tile under his feet, zoning in on the squares as he inhales deeply.

Louis chews over his next words for several, drawn out moments, processing through them. “I know that Harry is not a vengeful man…and I know that he would never do it purposefully and…he said he’ll still love me—that nothing could change how he feels and his eyes were so…sincere and honest and—I mean, I believe him…I do…but—I don’t know…I just keep thinking that if it went bad…” Louis shakes his head slowly, allowing himself to gradually think this through. “How could I tell him that I love him after that? It just…I don’t know—how would that ever be fair at that point? I would just be a constant reminder that she’s…that s-she’s… g-gone…”

Niall pulls Louis closer and starts to rub his back soothingly. “It wouldn’t be your fault if she died, Lou. You know that, don’t you? It could never be your fault. You’re doing something amazing. You’re trying to give her a chance that no one thought was possible. You’re fighting to give her a new chance at a life. And that in itself is incredible.”

“But it might cut her life even shorter…” Louis worries dejectedly, head hung. “She could have a few more months and if this doesn’t work, all that time would just be gone and I would have robbed him of that time with her and I…I don’t…I mean—I just…”

“No Louis, listen to me.” Niall brings Louis’ head back up to meet his stormy eyes. “You have done worlds of good in that girl’s life. She wouldn’t even be alive right now if you hadn’t treated her before. You haven’t failed her and you haven’t failed him either.”

Louis still can’t help but repeatedly think of the very worst, allowing his insecurities to overpower his thought process in horribly negative ways. “But Niall it won’t matter if she…if she d-dies on the table…if I l-let her die…” His voice sounds so uncharacteristically raw; breathy and emotional as the words fall quietly from his lips. “He won’t feel the same way anymore…”

“Lou, you are so much more than his daughter’s doctor and you always have been.” Niall says in a serious voice, eyes unwavering as he speaks. “He doesn’t just see you as some kind of savior, he sees you for you, Louis. For you. He loves _you._ Not Dr. Tomlinson, the renowned neurosurgeon. But you, Louis Tomlinson, the kind-hearted, gentle man who _cares_ —cares so deeply about him and his daughter. He’s saying that he didn’t start loving you because things always went well between you and he’s not going to stop loving you if the worst comes. He needs you. Both ways, whatever comes next—whether she makes it or not, Harry needs you, Louis. That’s what he’s saying.” Niall explains in confidence. “And I know this because I’ve seen it for myself countless times, it’s so clear how he feels about you and I’ve seen how you both rely on each other, maybe even without being fully aware of it. You’ve always done it, since the day you first met.”

It’s true, Louis thinks. And if he were to really go back and think through it all, from the very start of it all he and Harry have had a clear pattern of mutual reliance on each other. There’s an anomalous, unwavering trust that continually binds them, even when they were at bitter odds with each other and at their very worsts, it was still there, thrumming between them in the shadows.

“And if, god-forbid, that she didn’t make it…I think he would need you that much more.” Niall continues, still holding Louis’ gaze. “Harry already knows that you’ll do your best, you always do…but as much as you try, at the end of the day, you’re still human and if something were to happen, I don’t think he would blame you—he could never blame you for trying. Instead, I think he would look to you for comfort as he always has. It’s like a natural reaction for him to seek you out, just like it is for you with him. You’ll need each other more than ever.” He says and Louis has no idea when Niall became a relationship expert or how he could possibly have known exactly what to say to combat Louis’ doubts, but that’s exactly why he’s one of Louis’ closest friends. “The real question is, would you be able to forgive yourself if the worst did come?”

Louis sits quietly and thinks hard about that question to himself. Maybe there’s a part of him that is simply displacing his own fears and finding it easier to deflect his insecurities onto Harry like some kind of scapegoat. And now Louis doesn’t truly know if he would be able to let it all go or if he would hold onto it like a cruel grudge against himself for the rest of his life.

“I've lost patients before…I’ve lost pediatric patients even and it hurts and it’s awful and I’ll always remember each one of them…but this...” Louis pauses, taking a deep breath to calm his horribly shaky voice. “Losing her wouldn’t be like losing a patient. It’d be losing…”

_my heart, my love, my life…_

Louis feels the sting already building heavily behind his eyes and he feels so vulnerably overwhelmed, coming to his wits’ end. He drops his gaze down and the first full tear drops down his cheek with it.

_…my everything_

Niall nods rubbing Louis’ back. He already knows, already understands, not needing Louis to finish.

“Ok, look it me.” Niall goads, shifting around on the gurney so that his body is aimed toward Louis. “Look at me, Lou.”

Louis forces himself to meet Niall’s gaze, saltwater still rimming the bottom of his clear blue eyes. Niall reaches out and holds both of Louis’ shoulders firmly, looking at him straight on.

“You can do this.” Niall states firmly without a hitch of doubt in his voice, squeezing Louis’ shoulders tightly. “You can do this Louis, you can. Not because Harry loves you or you love him, but because you care about your patient and you are more than capable to do this. You are brilliant and talented and I’ve watched you do so many great things in your career and touch so many people’s lives. You never cease to amaze me and I know that you _can_ do this. You are going to march into that O.R. and fix that little girl. You’re going push everything else out and you’re going to follow your plan and take it one step at a time. You can fucking do this, Louis.”

Louis breaks eye contact with Niall only to stare down at the floor again, watching his feet hang off the side of the hospital bed. It doesn’t feel like he can do this, it doesn’t feel like he’ll ever find a way within himself to move past the uncertainty that seems to constantly shroud every aspect of his life, now bleeding into his work.

Maybe the fear of losing her won’t ever leave him, and maybe that can somehow be shifted into a good thing if he can find the will to harness that same fear into motivation to get through this. If he can’t lose her, then he can’t afford not to find the strength to do this.

“Say it.” Niall urges, giving Louis’ shoulder’s an encouraging squeeze.

“…I c-can do this.” Louis repeats in a timid, quiet voice, head still bowed down.

“No. I want you to believe it. If you don’t believe it, then you might as well not go in there at all.” Niall tells him. “You know I believe it, I’ll always believe in you. But it only matters if you believe it too. You have to go in there ready to fight. Avery needs you to fight for her, she needs you to believe that you can do it. So I want you to say it and mean it. Really mean it, Lou. You can do this.”

Louis closes his eyes, taking repeated deep breaths as he tries to internalize Niall’s encouragements. And he knows without a doubt that he never would have been able to talk himself down without his best friend, without someone who never fails to have faith in him even when he’s lacking faith in himself. He pulls together every last drop of bravery he has flowing through his system; he may not feel especially courageous right now, but he’s going to be regardless.

He lifts his head back up fully with increasing determination building up inside him, allowing a new resolve to take root inside him. And when he says the words this time, Louis actually believes them. “I can do this.”

Niall nods reassuringly, eyes locked on Louis’ with his hands still on his shoulders. “You can.”

“I _can_.”

 

||✚||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1GneisfRm0&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtsA8ic0L7tB7iPtZ0pbm2O&index=2)

It’s the final moments before the surgery. Possibly the last time Harry will ever be able to talk with his daughter, ever be able to look upon her sweet face and see her beaming back up at him in a way only she can. He would give anything to hold her tight to his chest until this all fades away, rock her soundly to sleep, humming softly to her as he did when she was just a baby. As her father, all Harry desperately wants is to see the life return to her golden hazel eyes, watch the color pour back into her exhausted face and light up her beautiful features once again.

Oh, but she’s beautiful, she will always be so breathtakingly beautiful. Even now, lying on the gurney in a hospital gown, monitored hand clasped in Harry’s, exuding more strength than a child should ever have to possess, Avery is nothing but _beautiful_.

A few nurses and medical staff gradually push her bed down the long white hall to the O.R. Each step Harry takes alongside the bed, fills his entire body with profound dread, dark trepidation creeping up against him down the painfully bright, shadow-less hallway. He can’t look up, he doesn’t want to see how close they’re getting to the final doors, he can’t bear to accept how short of a time they have left together. So instead Harry focuses solely on Avery’s beautiful face, holding dearly to her small, pale fingers.

He promised himself he wasn’t going to cry just yet, he swore that he was going to stay strong for his Avie until the very end. But it’s so unbearably hard now that he’s actually in the moment, now that it’s all become real, far too real to withstand. And Harry knows that he can’t hold back the water gathering behind his eyes for much longer, building up like a dammed river set to spring free.

“This is as far as you can go, Mr. Styles.” The nurse informs him as they stop in front of the large double doors labeled with cautionary signs and warnings only permitting authorized medical staff only.

Harry inhales slowly through his mouth, nodding his head as he leans down to fully face his daughter. She looks back at him, searching his eyes silently and Harry can tell she’s scared. He cups the side of her face with one of his hands, committing all her many details of her sweet face.

_i wish we had more time_

“No matter what happens…I love you, ok baby. I’ll always love you and you’ll always be with me.” Harry promises, and he means it undeniably. Avery will never leave his heart, the memory of her will never fade from his mind, or wane from his thoughts. She is and will always be an unshakable part of him. “You changed my life in so many ways, ways I didn’t even know were possible, Avie. I don’t know how I got so lucky to be able to have a daughter like you. You’re a miracle, you’re my miracle. I love you with my whole heart.”

“I love you, Daddy.” Avery whispers, foreheads pressed together as tears begin to run down her cheeks. “I love you so much. Always.”

“My sweet, little Munchie.” Harry smiles warmly, tracing the side of her face and wiping her tears away. He doesn’t want to let her go, he doesn’t even know if he can physically do it, dreading the moment his hands will be left empty.

“Promise we’ll still go to Europe?” Avery murmurs, big eyes peering back at him.

“Promise.” Harry sniffles emotionally, nodding his head as he bites down on his lip.

“And…” Avery reaches up to hold the sides of his head. “Promise you’ll still go even if I’m not with you. For both of us.”

At that, Harry closes his eyes and the hot sting of unshed tears rimming his eyes finally starts to trickle down his cheeks. He tries to reign it back in, but it’s useless. The thought of going anywhere without her nearly brings him to his knees right then and there. It doesn’t feel at all right in any sense of the word, but Harry somehow finds the strength to nod his head regardless. “O-Ok, baby. I will…I p-promise.” His voice is barely held at a hushed whisper and he keeps his eyes closed for another short moment, trying to recenter himself with Avery’s small hands still cupped to his cheeks. “But you’ve got to fight in there, ok? Fight hard.”

Avery nods slowly against his head. “I will, I promise…I will.”

Harry takes a few breaths, relishing these final peaceful moments with his daughter. There may never be another moment like this and the reality isn’t lost on him. It feels like there is so much he needs to say to her, so much that couldn’t possibly fit into this last passing moment, but Harry choses to say the most important thing of them all. He pulls back enough to affectionately kiss his love to both of her cheeks. “I love you…I love you… _I love you_.”

And Avery lets out a little sob when he says it, surging up to wring both of her arms around her father, burying her face in his neck. It’s the worst sound Harry has ever heard in his entire life and it shatters every piece of him like weakened glass. He hugs her close, rubbing her back as she trembles in his arms.

“I d-don’t wanna say g-goodbye to you, Daddy…” Avery cries against him, the sound muffled.

_i could never tell you goodbye_

“Then let’s not say goodbye.” Harry decides, silent saltwater tracks running down his own cheeks as he holds her against him. “It’s not goodbye, sweetheart.”

She squeezes him tighter, and Harry can feel her spilled tears against the now damp skin of his neck. Avery always has held his entire heart, she _is_ his heart and now his heart is breaking, splintering in the center of his chest.

“Be brave for me…” Harry whispers softly to her ear, just as she once did for him. Countless times she’s inspired bravery in him and now he wants to pass on that very same bravery back to her. He knows she’s scared, he knows how hard this is for her and if he could go through this for her, he wouldn’t hesitate to take her place, but at the very least Harry wants his daughter to realize just how incredibly brave she really is. Because maybe if she knows, maybe it will get her through this. “You’re so brave, Munch. You’ve always been the bravest girl and I know it’s really scary…but you’re always reminding me to be brave and now it’s my turn to remind you, ok?” He holds his hand securely to the back of her head, eyes closed as he tries not to let his ricocheting emotions get the best of his whispered voice. “Avie…be _brave.._.”

He says the words with every last ounce of determination he has left inside, hoping that somehow it reaches her where she needs it most.

Avery slowly pulls back enough to see his face, nodding her head silently as Harry thumbs away the rest of her tears. They share a long, teary-eyed look, conveying something words cannot through their locked gaze. Harry leans in once more to press one last lingering kiss to her forehead, Avery closing her eyes.

Harry rights himself, going against his own will as he forces himself to separate from her and stand up straight. The loss of warmth in his arms already feels unnatural and it takes everything he has not to pull his baby back into his arms again. The nurses, who have been respectfully quiet and distant to give them space, offer Harry empathetic looks of compassion before resuming their positions at the sturdy handles of the gurney, steering it towards the door.

And even after she is gone and the O.R. doors have closed, Harry stands. Unsteady feet planted to the ground, praying that the next time she is pushed through these very same doors, she’s still breathing, heart still beating. Because he can’t handle another goodbye in a cold, sterile room, he can’t handle another goodbye whispered through his own hushed tears, a goodbye fallen upon deaf ears that will never again hear his voice. Harry knows he can’t handle seeing her small body held so still on a bed three times her size, quiet, lifeless, eyes closed for the last time.

So even after he’s finally forced himself to turn his back and head to the waiting room, he can’t stop his thoughts from desperately repeating the same three words like a humbled prayer.

_please be ok, please be ok, please be ok…_

||☤||

  

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5nUuBjz4Vhc&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtsA8ic0L7tB7iPtZ0pbm2O&index=3)

The sanitized automated doors swoosh open and Louis takes a slow step into the operating room. Arms held up to preserve his clean hands after just scrubbing in, he is met almost instantly by a scrub nurse, his favorite scrub nurse, ready with a sterile surgical gown. In fact, the operating room is staffed only by his favorite and most trusted surgical team members, each individually chosen personally to greater secure a positive outcome. From the anesthesiologist to the different scrub nurses to the medsurge technicians, everyone in the room has worked closely with Louis for years and they each know his specific surgical habits and preferences down to the letter.

As his gown is securely tied, hands covered by nitrile gloves, Louis houses all his energy on keeping his mind clear and focused. The amount of times that he has set foot in the O.R. and gone through these same steps is practically innumerable, and each and every time Louis has to remind himself to push out his emotions, to disregard whatever feelings he may have and stay unattached while working. But this time isn’t like all the other times before, this time Louis feels driven by his emotions, linked to his feelings. As dangerous as that is in a situation like this, his emotional connection to this case, to this surgery, to _her,_ is what is going to get him through it.

Avery is already positioned on the operating table, draped and prepped, but she hasn’t yet been put under anesthesia. She looks so alone and small on the large table, staring motionlessly up at the huge surgical overhead lamp looming above her head. And Louis’ legs are walking towards her before he even registers what he’s doing.

“Hey.” Louis whispers tenderly, yanking off his fresh glove only to slip one of his hands into hers, giving it a comforting squeeze. He’ll have to go through the process of regloving up, but it’s more than worth it when he sees the grateful look in her timid eyes, just to feel his palm warm against hers.

She turns her head towards Louis fully, a sudden softness coming over her features as she gazes up at him, despite her hazel eyes being horribly red-rimmed.

“You got one with walruses on it.” Avery whispers, noticing the new scrub cap fastened to Louis’ head right away.

“I did.” Louis smiles softly. The background of the cap is shaded in swirling hues of blue while the entire thing is riddled with cute, little, animated walruses. He searched high and low to find it, ending up specially ordering the cap in order to have it for today. He thought surprising her with it would be well worth the headache it was to find an oddly unique scrub cap like this.

But it’s not just a scrub cap with walruses on it—it’s a symbol, one of reassured hope, of unbreakable trust and the inimitable safety they’ve found in each other. Louis isn’t one for good luck charms or positive omens granting promises of victory, but he figures they could use all the positive help they can get. Besides, simply seeing the way it lights up Avery’s face and melts a fraction of anxiety from her features is all he could ever ask for.

“I told you it’d look good.” Avery grins slightly, voice still so very quiet.

Louis nods his head, grinning back. “And you were right as usual, little love.”

Avery’s tiny grin grows just a bit wider and it’s absolutely everything. “Of course I was.”

There’s a pause between them, quiet except for the whirling machines constantly beeping lowly in the background, medical personnel flitting about the O.R. in preparation. Louis has a hand cradled tenderly to the top of her head and Avery stares up at him in silence. It’s odd because her expression as a whole is calm, utterly still, but her eyes—her eyes are unnerved like never before, the only portal into how she’s really feeling inside.

And Louis feels helpless in so many ways because there’s virtually nothing he can do to ease her mind this time. He can hold her hand for these last few seconds, he can whisper comforting words in her ear, he can even make her smile for a few fleeting moments, but he can’t make that unsettling feeling go away. He can’t make the anxious terror swirling around in her mind subside, he can’t calm the fearful tides taking over her system and the realization of that makes Louis feel so very _helpless_.

_i wish you didn’t have to go through this_

“I’ll see you after, ok Aves?” He means it as a promise, a simple reassurance that everything will be ok and he’ll be right there with her the whole time. From the time she first closes her eyes to the time she opens them again. He will be there.

Avery nods silently, eyes impossibly wide and filled with rising trepidation. And Louis finds himself still continually wishing that he could do the impossible and ease her worries, absorb some of the fear looming over her and take it upon himself; but nothing could possibly prepare her for this. Louis can’t lie to her as he looks down into her hazel eyes. Avery is old enough and smart enough to grasp the severity of this and it is absolutely terrifying.

“Show me that little heartbreaker smile.” Louis whispers to her, resting his other hand gently on her cheek.

He knows she’s not quite up for it, knows that a smile is probably the last thing she feels like doing, but there’s something so powerful about something so simple as a smile, especially Avery’s smile. It’s thought that a smile can often trick the human brain into feeling a sense of peaceful happiness, spurring a sudden chemical reaction throughout the nervous system and Louis doesn’t want her to start this battle with such a downcast spirit shadowing over her.

“Please Aves, for me…” Louis requests again, softly stroking her cheek as he gazes down on her.

It takes a few moments, but slowly Avery’s lips curve into her wide signature smile, dimples dipping into her cheeks. And it’s so wonderfully vibrant, beautifully heart-stopping in every possible way. In that instant, a rare glimpse of peace falls over her, brilliantly coloring her pale face in ways Louis hasn’t seen on her in days.

“There it is.” Louis smiles back at her warmly, completely in awe of her. He continues running his thumb along the side of her face in soothing motions. “My beautiful, brave girl.” 

Louis gives Avery’s hand one more reassuring squeeze before nodding a green light to the anesthesiologist to begin administering the sedatives while she’s still calm. A mask is placed over Avery’s face and Louis holds her hand until it gradually goes lax in his grip as she drifts off to sleep.

Louis leans in then, dipping down close to her ear. “Sleep tight, little love. It’s all going to be ok.”

 

||✚||

 

The waiting room already feels like pure hell.

Well, if hell were a cool, hauntingly quiet place with decently comfortable chairs and limitless magazines paired with grueling amounts of anxious energy buzzing in the very air. There are pockets of different families and loved ones scattered about the room, each one of them with the same exact look painted across their faces. It’s a look of pure uncertainty, everything held at a standstill, like waiting for a fresh breath of air that might never come.

But in a way Harry envies the different families he sees, because as he glances around the room, he notices a bit of a reoccurring trend. None of them are sitting alone, each person has a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on as they wait and hold their breath through the longest moment of their lives.

And as Harry slowly settles himself down into a chair in the corner, he can’t help but wish he had someone next to him to help ease his mind from falling back to the worst. Just a friendly face to even slightly distract him from the fact that his daughter’s brain is being cut into and she may not make it off the table alive.

It’s only been three minutes and Harry’s sweaty hands are already clamped to the railings of his chair, heel bouncing madly up and down as the restless, nervous energy seems to overflow out of him. He can’t stop replaying the sound of Avery’s choked up sob as she held onto him for the last time, he can’t stop wondering if that really will be the last time for them. They didn’t say goodbye—couldn’t bear to say goodbye, but it seems to lord over him anyway.

_what if it was goodbye…what if that’s it…_

How is he ever going to survive hour after hour of this? Of his mind dredging up the very worst scenarios until he’s somehow convinced himself it’s all true? Surgeries like this are known to take upwards of fifteen consecutive hours and Harry can barely make it to fifteen consecutive minutes.

Harry leans over himself and drops his head into his propped up hands, breathing in deeply several times in a weak attempt to calm himself down to a reasonable level of anxiety. But then he feels an unexpected warmth at his side—warm like another body would be. And when Harry lifts his head, he is more than shocked to see Liam Payne settling down next to him.

Harry partially turns to him slowly, confused as to what he’s actually doing here in the waiting room. Harry waits several moments, giving Liam the chance to say whatever it is he sat down to say, but when he says nothing, Harry turns toward him completely. “What are you…”

“Sitting.” Liam answers him simply, without Harry even needing to finish his question.

“Sitting…” Harry echoes slowly, brow pulled together as he eyes Liam curiously.

Liam nods, meeting Harry’s eyes and there’s something so comfortingly earnest and kind about the look in his gentle brown gaze, something that makes Harry feel just a touch more at ease than moments ago.

“Here? You’re just…sitting…here…” Harry continues in a slow, drawn out speech. “…With me…”

“Yep.” Liam nods again easily, not offering much explanation.

Harry sits up all the way in his seat, whole body twisting around. “Did Louis ask you to do this? You can tell me if he did—I won’t hold it against you or anything…and I won’t force you to stay and sit with me all day against your will—because I…I mean I’m o-ok…I’m…” Harry senses the frazzled energy thrumming under his skin, only disproving the very words coming out of his mouth.

“No, he didn’t ask me.” Liam shakes his head gently. “I’m not being forced to do anything. And even if you were ok, no one should have to sit through something like this alone. It’s hard enough to process as it is, being alone only makes it worse.” He reaches over and takes Harry’s hand in his, meeting his eyes in the most genuine way. “I’ll be here the whole time. I promise.”

Harry blinks incredulously, staring at Liam in total disbelief, almost feeling as though maybe his thoughts have somehow been broadcasted out loud for all to hear like some kind of distress signal paged throughout the hospital.

“Don’t even try to tell me to leave, Harry Styles.” Liam warns seriously, eyes narrowed even though his smile is still gentle. “I may not know too much about you on a personal level, but I do know you can be stubborn sometimes. But you know what? I’m stubborn too and I’m not leaving.” He gives Harry’s hand another warm squeeze, comforting grin widening. “You’re stuck with me.”

Harry can’t stop his face from breaking into an appreciative smile even though he still feels like he’s keeping Liam from something much more important than him. “But…don’t you have patients or something? I don’t want to mess up your schedule.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Liam evades, shrugging it off like it’s nothing. “I’m here for you and I’m right where I need to be.”

Harry feels a warmth radiating inside him, touched that someone he doesn’t even know all that well would do something like that for him without even being asked. He drops his gaze down and when he does, he notices that Liam still has Avery’s bracelet secured to his wrist, worn proudly in support of her and something about that touches Harry even more.

“And besides this is our chance to finally get to know each other properly.” Liam adds lightly. “Well…only if you’re up for it. I’d completely understand if you just wanted to sit in silence—I’m cool with that too. Whatever you need, I’m your guy.”

The last thing Harry wants to do is sit in silence, allowing his own terrifying thoughts to grow uncontrollably louder in his head. He welcomes all distractions in whatever form they come and he’d very much like to get to know and befriend Liam.

Harry slowly smiles again, growing accustomed to having Liam’s hand constantly grounding him. “I’d really like that, Liam.” He answers in a wavering whisper with his head still bowed low. And Harry has to fight against turning into an emotional mess over how supported he feels. It was all so unexpected and right now he’s so easily overwhelmed by the slightest of things. Harry doesn’t know how to properly express into words how relieved he feels to not be sitting here alone anymore and it’s then that his eyes start to gradually tear up.

Liam of course notices and doesn’t hesitate to wrap Harry up in a bone-crushing hug without question, both arms secure around his back. Harry goes easily into his embrace, allowing his weight to sag against him.

“Thank you.” Harry murmurs faintly to Liam’s shoulder, but Harry knows that Liam heard him because he somehow seems to tighten his hold around Harry’s back.

“We all need a shoulder to lean on sometimes.”

 

||☤||

 

There is a full gallery of residents and fellow attendings stationed in the observation deck above the O.R., looking down in eager anticipation of the procedure set to commence in front of them. Louis wanted to have a closed gallery, take some of the pressure off of this already complex procedure, but since it’s an experimental surgery, it serves as a potential learning experience for his colleagues, so having a completely closed O.R. was never going to happen.

Louis stands entirely still for a moment, instruments unmoving in his poised hands. He has yet to make a single incision, surgical field completely untouched except for the temporary incision guideline drawn to Avery’s smooth scalp. Although he knows what he needs to do, Louis remains motionless, breathing deeply from behind his mask. And he’s not going to lie, the components of this procedure are incredibly daunting, so much so that it causes him to take pause.

It’s meant to only be a momentary pause, a few minutes at most while he gathers his bearings, something he does often before starting a lengthy procedure. But a few minutes soon begins to multiply and soon Louis is setting down his scalpel all together, only to stare down at his empty hands.

“Dr. Tomlinson…are you ok?” Charlie whispers to him from his side.

_i can do this_

Louis can feel every set of eyes on him, from his fellow surgical team to the awaiting medical professionals in the observation deck looming above him. And it’s... _a lot_ —too much actually. “Yeah…I’m ok…I’m just…um…” His voice drops off as he lifts his gaze to look up at the gallery.

There’s a sea of intrigued faces, but his eyes immediately land on the two most familiar ones, sat in the very front row to support him. Zayn and Niall wave at him from behind the glass and just seeing them seems to take a few loads off of Louis’ shoulders.

_i can do this, i’m fine…i can do it…_

Something feels wrong though, something still feels off and no matter what Louis tells himself, he just can’t seem to shake the unsettledness of it.

Zayn seems to be watching him like a hawk from up above, tracking his slightest move, noting his stiff body language and uncharacteristically frozen hands. And in seconds, he’s bounding right up to his feet. He turns his back to Louis to address the large gathered crowd seated patiently in the deck. Niall does the same at his side and Louis can tell they’re saying something to the group, but since the intercom isn’t on, Louis has no idea what it is. But soon enough, to Louis’ astonishment, the rows of doctors and surgeons begin to disperse out of the room. And with each one gone, Louis feels like he can breathe just a bit more.

When all that remains are his two friends in the gallery, Zayn strides over to the intercom mounted on the wall, pressing down on the speaker button. “Is that better, Lou?”

Louis doesn’t even know how Zayn could have possibly known. But he’s exceedingly touched that his friend knew exactly what he needed in this moment, better than he even did. Louis is all for teaching, he’s all for sharing his surgical experiences and helping others become better at their craft, but the added stress of an audience was far too much for him to handle right now. He’s never felt pressured by onlookers or by being made an example of, but it just didn’t feel right today. This surgery feels like a far more intimate thing—it’s far too personal, far too emotional. And Louis recognizes that he needs the space and peace of mind to be able to get through this in whatever way he can without any additional stressors.

Louis nods his head thankfully as he looks up at the gallery. And if he wasn’t wearing a mask and an illuminated scope on his head, concealing his features, his friends would surely see the pure stress coating his entire expression. “Don’t leave...” He requests, voice unusually quiet, nervous to even his own ears. “Please don’t leave.”

“We’re not going anywhere.” Niall promises reassuringly, and he and Zayn sit right back down in their seats at the very front of the gallery, ready to support him through this. It is by no means going to be a short procedure and the fact that his friends cleared their busy surgical schedules just to sit and support him all day means the world and more, giving Louis the exact push he needs to begin.

_just breathe…_

Louis nods again, this time to himself. He allows his eyes to fall closed before inhaling deeply from his nose several times. In and out he breathes repeatedly, mentally going over his plan one last time to bolster himself. He rolls his shoulders, tilting his neck side to side until he finally opens his eyes, determined and ready to go.

“Start the clock.” Louis finally speaks with practiced assurance. He holds his hand out to the scrub nurse at his side. “10-blade.”

Scalpel poised in hand, Louis makes his first incision in confidence, following the pattern outlined in temporary ink on her scalp. The first few moves are basic, simply dissecting the skull flap and exposing the target brain area that will be focused on throughout the operation.

“Inserting flurosine dye.” Louis announces as the infected area of the brain begins to glow green against the healthy surrounding tissue. The dye essentially gives him an illuminated map to follow, perfectly outlining what belongs and what doesn’t. “Dim the lights, please.”

It’s even more daunting in this light, illumed as the central focus of the surgical field. And the tumor has definitely expanded quite a bit since Louis last had his fingers in her brain. He already had an estimate of its impending size from the different angled scans, scans that Louis studied and memorized like the back of his hand. But even still, there’s something about this tumor—this highly intelligent, complex tumor, that once again takes his breath completely away.

_just one step at a time, i can do this…_

He’s not going to let this defeat him, he refuses to let it break him down. So Louis presses on, for once not looking at the big picture, only taking it a single cut at a time. Over the next several hours, with the assist of Dr. Wesley at his side, Louis resects a clean marginal path, excavating what he safely can of the massive tumor in order to move forth with his surgical plan. And every time Louis gets stuck or hits a snag along the path, he pauses and continually reminds himself to breathe through it. All he can do is breathe through it, inhaling in and exhaling out, taking each moment one small step at a time. Sometimes he’s forced to pause only to mutter through his limited options out loud, processing through how to best proceed without damaging a vital blood vessel or stripping a nerve. But Louis doesn’t rush himself, moving methodically, making sure that he’s confident in the calculated incisions he makes.

Clearing a viable path takes more time than Louis would have liked, but through tedious strokes and meticulous cuts, he is able to cleanly remove a reasonable amount of the mass, which is highly vital to the next stages of the operation. The more room he has to work as they approach the more difficult aspects of the procedure, the better.

And now, coming up on hour number eight, the heavy nerves Louis expected to arise start to settle in, falling over him in steadily increasing waves. This is where routine craniotomy starts to meet experimental procedure, where the real risk arises.

The technicians start wheeling in the necessary radiation equipment, while all non-essential personnel begin to exit the operating room to limit the amount of overall exposure. A thick led vest is strapped to Louis’ chest and neck, underneath a fresh surgical grown and his already gloved hands are encased in an even heavier, dense rubber glove. Charlie, as well as the remaining surgical staff, sport a similar protective outfit; everyone in the room prepared to brace any potential radiation exposure. Louis can already sense the limited range of motion from all the extra cautionary protection, but he shakes himself out a few times to get acclimated to it as well as shake off any extra nerves.

Once everything is in order with his team and himself, Louis nods his head to the technician. “Start the second clock.”

This phase of the surgery is extremely time sensitive because of the high level of radiation being utilized. Even with the heavy gloves and thick lead vest harnessed to his chest, he can only be exposed to this level of radiation for thirty minutes maximum without risking his own health safety. In that short window allotted, Louis needs to place a series of radiation induced seeds along the marginal path that he cleared within the brain tissue. The overall concept is for the radioactive seeds to work in junction with the virus he will later inject, insuring that the tumor not only dies, but never returns. However, the placement has to be exact, moving too fast or too carelessly will result in poor alignment and render the treatment ineffective.

But as Louis begins placing the tiny seeds, he finds it nearly impossible to place them properly through the thick insulation of his protective gloves. The seeds keep slipping out of place without the usually precise use of his fingers. Louis had planned to use a pre-op brain map as a guide, but during the excavation portion of the surgery, there’s been an intracranial shift and nothing is in the exact same place as it initially was. At his command, Dr. Wesley has set up an ultrasound to try to get an idea of what he’s doing, but at this point Louis is basically eyeballing it.

“I can’t quite get it.” Louis huffs in irritation, moving his wrist around to get a better angle, but nothing feels right, his grip constantly slipping. “These damn gloves are so thick…”

Louis glances up at the clock to see that he’s already wasted away seven precious minutes and only successfully placed one of the fourteen seeds outlined on the brain map. At this rate there is no way he will be able to complete this stage of the surgery in time. But since the rest of the procedure is highly dependent on this step, Louis has no choice but to find some way to place the rest of the seeds.

The clock keeps ticking by, minutes passing like short-lived seconds while Louis continues to fumble under the encumbrance of the dense rubber limiting his deft hands.

“Fuck it.” Louis decides suddenly, yanking off the thick insulated glove of his right hand, stripping it down to just his initial nitrile surgical glove.

“Dr. Tomlinson!” Dr. Wesley gasps in horror from behind her mask, watching on as Louis begins rapidly positioning the seeds without adequate protection. “But…the radiation? It’s not safe, you could—”

“Quiet!” Louis snaps as he concentrates intently. With the removal of the hampering rubber glove, Louis freely moves his fingers, angling the radiation seeds to the correct target points while watching the ultrasound monitor.

“Louis!” Niall screams through the intercom, worried voice echoing through the operating room. He looks down at Louis through the glass from the overhead observation gallery. “Put the goddamn glove back on your hand _now_!”

“Louis, what the fuck are you doing?!” Zayn shrieks next, sharp tone at the same stress level as Niall’s.

But Louis ignores them and keeps on manually placing the tiny charges according to her brain map. He knows it’s dangerous, he knows he runs the risk of getting some degree of radiation poisoning or worse, but he doesn’t care. Right now, he can’t seem to give a single fuck about his own well being. All Louis knows is that he has a short, depleting window of only eighteen minutes to place the remainder of the seeds in Avery’s brain before injecting the virus. Nothing outside of that matters.

There is a commotion going on in the gallery, Louis flicks his gaze up briefly to catch a glimpse of Zayn shouting through the glass alongside Niall, expression bathed in ridiculous amounts of worry. They care about him, genuinely _care_ about him, Louis knows that and most days he’s more than thankful for it, but today there’s nothing his best friends could do or say that could stop him from finishing this. Not when Avery’s life is hanging in the balance.

“Don’t make me come down there!” Niall yells with his entire face practically pressed against the intercom microphone, growing more and more angry at Louis’ disregard for his own safety. “Louis! _LOUIS_! Fucking hell!” Niall storms out of the gallery overhead, most likely on his way to scrub in and force Louis to stop, not that Louis can stop. There’s no alternative, he has to do this, he can’t go back now.

Not but two minutes later, Niall appears in Louis’ O.R., holding a mask over his mouth. He is already breathing heavily, chest rising and falling under his navy scrubs and there’s a protective lead vest haphazardly strewn over his body, clearly done in a rush.

“Dr. Tomlinson, put the gloves back on. _Now_. This isn’t safe.” Louis can tell that Niall is trying his best to remain calm and use a level sounding voice. He speaks firmly with commanding authority, but his eyes are wildly concerned, begging Louis to see reason.

“I can’t, Niall. I can’t.” Louis doesn’t even look up, trained eye focused on the task before him, hands working frantically and intricately. “It won’t work with the gloves—I can’t feel anything and I need to place them all accurately or it won’t work. I don’t have a choice.”

“Louis, hey, listen alright, please Lou—your life is seriously at risk, ok? You are in direct contact with highly toxic radiation.” Zayn talks over the intercom, putting forth an obvious effort to keep his voice even and level. “This may not even work—”

“It _will_ work.” Louis insists, fingers working frantically against the clock. It’s almost like he doesn’t even have control of his hands anymore, functioning like a machine set to autopilot in order to get this done as fast as humanly possible.

“Come on, bro. You’re not thinking clearly.” Zayn tries again in another forced calm tone, huddled next to wall in the observation deck. “Please—you have to put the gloves back on.”

Niall casts a worried glance at the big timer on the wall counting the exposure minutes. “With proper protection you can only work with radiation safely for twenty-seven minutes at a time, max thirty if need be. But you aren’t even properly protected and it’s already been sixteen and—”

“I’m fine, ok? I’m fine.” Louis maintains adamantly, zoning in all his focus on slipping the last few seeds into place, fingers moving rapidly as he maneuvers gently within the delicate folds of brain tissue. “I almost got it…”

“Stop it, Louis! You’re not fine!” Niall completely snaps, raising his voice again furiously. “You have to stop! I can’t let you do this! It’s not safe! Do you really not understand how dangerous this is!? Put the fucking gloves back on now or so help me god—”

“Done! Done. I’m done—it’s ok.” Louis swiftly raises both his hands from the surgical field, allowing himself a deep, much deserved breath. The whole O.R. seems to also breathe a collective sigh of relief right along with him, the strain of the room hanging heavily in the air.

“I’m scrubbing in.” Niall declares after a few charged beats of silence, not at all appeased. “You shouldn’t be in here alone.”

“I’m not alone, but ok.” Louis is 100% certain that Niall plans on babysitting him the rest of the way so he doesn’t make any more risky decisions. But truthfully, Louis would take any and all risks if it meant prolonging and saving this little girl’s life.

The surgical team waste no time in moving the radiation equipment out of the operating room. The cumbersome precautionary vests are also removed as they begin to move on to the next and final portion of the surgery. In Louis’ notes, he kept referring to this part of the procedure as the “make it or break it” step, simply because it’s the part of the surgery where he will begin the process of actually inserting the virus into her tumor and if it doesn’t occur correctly, the prior steps won’t even matter.

It’s a very tricky process and it must be timed perfectly, targeting the tumor from two different access points to maximize success. They only have one, single shot at this, so there is no room for mistakes. Precision is the name of the game and Louis has no intention of losing.

Before injecting the virus, both he and Charlie need to insert the tiny tube for the virus probe to glide into. Even though it’s only the set up portion, like every step of this procedure, they still need to complete the insertion of the tubing in sync with each other to ensure the alignment is equal on both cerebral hemispheres.

Louis takes a deep breath and Charlie does the same, looking far more nervous than he does. But Louis knows he made the right decision in choosing her as his assist because despite how nervous he knows she is, Charlie remains focused, keeping herself under control as she carefully watches for Louis’ lead.

“Ok, Wesley…it’s just like how we practiced in the skills lab. You’ve got this. Not too fast, not too slow.” Louis reminds as together they begin to insert the dual opened tube with precise accuracy into the targeted brain tissue.

They go slowly, inserting the long, thin tube millimeter by millimeter, not wanting to put too much pressure on the brain or blood flow. Although the tubing is extremely small, it could still offset the balanced pressure maintained in the brain. Rapidly increased intracranial pressure could lead to swelling or subarachnoid hemorrhaging which could easily cause a whole litany of other complications that Louis would rather not deal with.  

It only takes a few minutes for the tubing to be successfully placed, so Louis and Charlie move on to the next step right away and begin carefully placing the inner virus probe. They work just as steadily as before, gradually pushing the probe into place. But it seems like the probe has only been secured for a manner of seconds before the warning sirens begin to sound out angrily from the monitoring machines.

“V-tach!” The scrub nurse announces.

“Shit.” Louis immediately curses under his breath, sensing that something like this might happen with another change in pressure. He was hoping they could get passed this without hampering blood flow, but it seems Avery’s heart and circulatory system aren’t adapting well to the pressure.

“Starting compressions.” A second nurse decides, already moving into position.

“No, stop!” Louis states firmly, gaze snapping up.

“Doctor?”

“It’ll disrupt the probe.” Louis explains briefly, not having the time to go into the whole specifics of it. Instead he continues on with his plan, taking the measured vial containing the virus and screwing the apparatus into place to begin the injection. Charlie follows suit, mirroring his actions on her side without question, although she does cast him a few worried looks as the monitors continue to blare.

“Louis, you can’t be serious right now!” Niall shouts behind his mask as he watches Louis continue with the procedure regardless of the vital warnings. He’s just finished fully scrubbing in so he marches across the O.R. to the operating table, already ready to take over the life support protocol himself with his now gowned and gloved hands.

“Just give me a minute...” Louis flicks his gaze up to him briefly, while still finishing the viral injection set up.

“She doesn’t have a minute!” Niall insists, reading off the EKG.

“There’s still time—I can get this done and—”

“No!” Niall argues adamantly, clearly reaching a point far beyond worried, if the strain of his voice is anything to go by. “There’s no way you’ll have enough time to inject the virus before her heart overworks itself and goes into arrest.”

Charlie is watching the two of them go back and forth, looking uncertain as to whose side she should be on as the cautioning sounds only seem to grow louder. Her hands remain still, unmoving as she continues to hold her side of the probe steady.

“Hey Wesley, watch me…it’s ok.” Louis speaks gently, locking on to her clearly nervous and panicked eyes. “Keep your hand steady, it’s ok. Just like we practiced, yeah? Just watch me, Wesley…keep your eyes on me…”

“Ok…” Charlie nods her head faintly, eyes wide and uncertain. Her hands parallel Louis’ motions, following the plan they’ve practiced together a thousand times before.

“Injecting the virus.” Louis announces, grasp steady on the injection probe in his hand. He knows they have to do this as quickly as possible, but he also knows that it needs to be injected at an even, balanced pace.

“Louis, it’s already been two minutes since she became tachycardic.” Zayn worries from above, watching the monitors just as closely.

“I know…” Louis mumbles, focus zoned in on the treatment screen, outlining the viral injection progression.

“I need to shock her heart.” Niall moves closer to the table as the machines continue to scream angrily. “We have to start CPR before we lose the rhythm.”

“No! If you shock her the probe will move and the virus won’t get to her tumor.” Louis says, not taking his eyes away from the screen, still pressing down on the injector.

“Louis— _fuck_! She is going into cardiac arrest!” Niall argues, losing his composure as he points to the heart monitor display. He picks up the defibrillation paddles from the surgical crash cart. “I’m shocking her. Charge the paddles.”

“Don’t touch my patient, Horan!” Louis shouts authoritatively, voice stern. “This is a live virus. It could revert and lead to encephalitis or even a severe intracranial hemorrhage and a whole host of other complications. Don’t touch her.”

Louis knows that although not recommended, the body can sustain several minutes of cardiac arrest without treatment, but anything longer than six minutes immediately starts to risk permanent neurological damage due to the prolonged lack of oxygen and blood flow to the brain and at the fifteen minute mark there’s a high risk of brain death. Meaning that every single second matters right now, because each passing moment will make it that much harder to successfully resuscitate her organs.

Niall blinks several times at Louis in utter disbelief as he watches Louis continue to inject the viral syringe, seeming to be at a crossroads. “Dr. Wesley, go get Chief Aoki immediately.”

“Wesley, don’t you dare move. Don’t look at him. Look at me.” Louis grits through his teeth, staring at her through his specs. “Keep your hand steady. And don’t even think about moving.”

“Charlie.” Niall calls again, this time his voice is gentler, her name spoken in a tone that sounds like it’s for her alone. He moves closer to his girlfriend, attempting to get her to make eye contact with him. “Charlie…please…”

His voice has an obvious effect on Charlie, her expression so conflicted. It’s not an easy position to be placed in, at odds with her teacher and her significant other. Her eyes are wide behind her glasses, but she keeps her gaze on Louis and her hands perfectly steady, refraining from turning towards Niall near her opposite side.

“I…I really can’t, Niall…” Charlie whispers, sounding torn by her decision. She keeps her hand trained on the gauge, emulating Louis’ actions. However, the treatment screen starts to indicate that their viral injections are flowing out of sync, Charlie’s is going several increments faster than Louis’.

“Wesley, just slow it down, ok?” Louis speaks to her evenly, maintaining eye contact in hopes of getting her back on track. “Don’t pay attention to anything else in this room, just focus on staying synced with me. We’re nearly halfway there, you can do this, Wesley. Just breathe. Focus…it’s ok...”

The machines are still sounding off, beeping incessantly as tachycardia spikes are presenting urgently on the monitors, pulse readings through the roof. The situation is becoming more imperative with each passing second, Avery’s heart growing more and more stressed.

“Dr. Wesley, that’s an order!” Niall barks in an even louder voice, changing his approach as the risk continues to rise. He stands with the defibrillation paddles charged and ready.

“Dr. Horan, in this O.R., _I_ am Dr. Wesley’s attending, not you!” Louis snarls, eyes sharp and fierce behind his scope as he looks up at his friend, while being sure to keep his hands steady.

“Louis, just listen to yourself!” Niall pleads once again. “If you place the virus and her heart stops completely then what use is that?! She will be _dead_!”

“And if I don’t place the virus, she’ll be dead!” Louis screams back, gaze focused back on the treatment screen indicting the progress. “I know what I’m doing! Don’t touch her! She is my patient! I can save her! I can save her!”

He knows how he sounds. Louis knows exactly how absurd and illogical his actions must seem in this moment, but he can’t stop, something inside him will not allow him to stop. Avery will die if left untreated, that much is undeniable. She won’t even make it through the remainder of the year if this procedure is not completed and Louis can’t begin to think about that becoming a reality, he can’t even stomach it.

“I’m getting The Chief.” Zayn announces from the gallery, already running out of the secluded room.

“Lou, please just stop. She can still have a few more months to live…you’ve done so much for her—you did it, really you did and I’m so proud of you.” Niall sounds like he is trying to talk someone off of a ledge, speaking to Louis as though he is poised to jump. “You already cleared a good amount of the tumor out and placed the seeds, maybe even that can give her more time and—”

“No! That’s not good enough!” Louis yells stubbornly, feeling his own heart rate spiking emotionally. “It’ll just come back again if I don’t finish this—I can finish it! I can save her! It’ll work—the treatment will work, I can do it—if I don’t do it then everything I’ve done for her will be pointless…” 

“No…” Niall shakes his head, his voice becoming softer as he tries to reach Louis. “No, that’s not true, you know that’s not true. None of what you did for her was pointless, Lou. You gave her time. Time she would have never had before. Time with her dad…time with you. It matters, it all matters. You’ve done all you can do.”

Louis remains quiet, but his resolve has remained unchanged. Because he hasn’t done all he can do, not yet. His index finger and thumb remain locked on the syringe, slowly pressing down at the necessary speed as the viral injection continues to plunge into her cerebral system. Charlie’s actions are still mirrored at his side, following his every move diligently. The gauge has reached seventy-five percent completion and Louis sure as hell is not about to stop now, not when they’re so close.

“Louis, you’re my best friend and I have the utmost respect for you as a person and as a colleague, but right now you aren’t thinking clearly and I have to do what is medically sound. Charge to 200.” Niall instructs the awaiting scrub nurse, deciding to take action before it’s too late. He takes both paddles in his hands, hovering over Avery’s still body.

“STOP! Don’t fucking touch my patient, Dr. Horan!” Louis roars deafeningly, his booming voice reverberating around the walls of the still room, causing the whole O.R. to fall silent around him. The only sound is of the still beeping monitors, sounding off evenly at the same eerie, warning intervals. “Just shut the fuck up and let me work!”

“Dr. Tomlinson!” Niall screams back forcefully, holding the defibrillator set to Avery’s chest. His expression is torn right in two, eyes pleading with Louis to find it within himself to see some sort of reason. He clearly doesn’t want to overrule Louis’ judgment, but he needs to do what he feels is medically necessary for the patient. “Louis! _Please_!”

Louis doesn’t answer, he can’t spare the time to answer anymore, all of his attention focused on properly injecting the final increments of the virus. He’s working against a clock he has no control over, there’s no telling how much Avery’s system can take, but he’s hoping that she can hold on. Louis can feel Niall’s eyes on him, actually he can feel all the eyes in the room on him, burrowing holes in his skin with the intensity of their gazes, but he can’t care about that now. He keeps his gaze locked only on the monitor displaying Avery’s brain activity, watching as the screen finally glows green indicating the full viral dose was successfully injected at one hundred percent.

And at that moment, both he and Dr. Wesley immediately lift their hands from their patient, taking a step back so that a charge can be applied to her body. They don’t even need to say a single thing before, Niall jumps right in with the paddles, not missing a single beat. “Clear.”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7z2vEwF0f2s&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtsA8ic0L7tB7iPtZ0pbm2O&index=4)

Niall holds the charged paddles to her chest as the shock waves run through her small chest cavity to stabilize her heart. But it seems to be too late and Niall’s worries are actualized as the shockable rhythm she once had morphs into an unshockable one.

“She’s asystolic, doctor.” The nurse reports regretfully, reading off Avery’s EKG and in that one, drawn out moment, Louis feels as though his own heart has just been brutally speared right through the middle. “Pulseless electrical activity.”

“Shit...” Niall curses frenziedly under his breath, immediately handing the paddles back to the nurse before locking his hands together and applying pressure to her chest. “Starting compressions.”

The room feels unbalanced, the level ground shifting and tilting on its axis, while the walls swirl and spin upside-down. Louis stands on horribly unsteady legs, wavering and weak. “What…w-what are h-her levels at?” He asks breathlessly trying not to freak out, trying not to lose his shit completely as he stares at the unnerving, angry flat line blaring on the EKG heart monitor.

“ETCO2 readings barely holding steady at 9 mm HG.”

“ _Fuck_ …” Louis breathes inaudibly behind his mask, chest sinking like an anchor threatening to pull him down to the floor.

“Push Epi.” Niall instructs, pounding down repeatedly on her chest in a valiant attempt to get her heart going again. “We need that rhythm back now.”

No time is wasted as vasopressors are pumped directly into Avery’s central line, cycled through her system mechanically with asynchronous ventilation and consistent chest compressions.

“Stopping compressions to check rhythm.” Niall announces, pausing his tireless movements as his attention zones in on the monitors. Beads of sweat are forming along his forehead, just under his scrub cap and his breathing has grown unsteady.

“No change, doctor. Still asystolic.” The scrub nurse reads after several beats, the machines still beeping wildly. “No rhythm, no pulse.”

Charlie takes over compressions for Niall, keeping the administered rhythm just as precise as he did. All the while, Louis is left standing there with his mind reeling in spiraling circles, thinking about how right now, in this terrifying moment Avery is medically dead. Lacking a discernible pulse, deficient of a salvageable rhythm, unable to breathe and sustain her organs without the aide of continuous cardiopulmonary resuscitation. If they were to stop right here, lift up their hands and watch the rest of her vital leads drop off to nonexistent thrums, all that would be left to do is call time of death and that would be the end of it, the end of her. Some doctors would, some doctors would throw in the towel at a crossroads like this, but they aren’t some doctors and they aren’t giving up so easy.

“More Epi! Give her more Epi!” Niall orders urgently, holding the paddles ready for the first sign of a rhythmical peak.

Louis’ eyes are glued to the heart monitor, watching the lack of spikes with baited breath. He is useless, absolutely useless. His bloodied, gloved hands are still raised, frozen in time. It’s almost like being trapped within his own body, unable to move, unable to do much of anything but stare on in fear as time passes by him in slow beats. He should be running the code, it should be him trading off compression cycles with Niall, but he can’t do it. He can barely manage to breathe on his own accord, feeling utterly paralyzed.

The long, dark tendrils of crippling panic begin to wind around his fragile heart, gripping him to the point of breaking. He fights the recurrent words floating louder and louder in his head, pounding against his sanity, over and over and over again like a twisted broken record.

_she’s not coming back, she’s not coming back, she’s not coming back from this_

“Let’s check her rhythm again, stop compressions.” Niall decides and Charlie pauses his resuscitative movements.

The O.R. is dead quiet once again apart for the constant beeping, every eye watching the EKG with drawn breath. The line remains a dull, lifeless, pulseless line, running straight across the screen without a wave. Louis can’t even look at it anymore, he can’t bear to consider what it all could mean, he can’t allow himself to draw a connection between that eerie fatal line and all Avery is to him. And it takes every last thing inside him to not fall to his knees on the sterile O.R. floor and never get back up.

No one wants to call it, no one wants to say a thing and the silence is almost worst. The silence feels like admitting a truth they all know, but are too afraid to speak out loud. Louis lets his eyes fall closed, squeezing them shut against the world as he tries to contain himself. Even though he feels like a nuclear bomb set to detonate and self-destruct at any moment.

“Is…is that a spike…?” Charlie peeps uncertainly, breaking the silence. Her eyes are narrowed in concentration as she examines the monitor.

“Where?” Niall questions, leaning in. Although Louis keeps his eyes shut, not chancing a glance at the monitor as his heart pounds loudly in his ears.

“There…right there...” Charlie points to a minuscule peak rising up in the far corner, it’s repetitive, but could easily be written off as some kind of aftershock. “That little wave. It’s a rhythm, right? It has to be…it’s tiny…but maybe…I don’t know, maybe it’s…”

Niall shakes his head uncertainly at a loss. “All we can do is shock her and see.”

Charlie nods slowly, looking hopeful as she keeps an eye on the slight rhythm pattern.

“Charge to 250.” Niall commands, repositioning the paddles as he continues to run the code. Louis can’t stop himself from opening his eyes, gaze focused on the monitor even though he thinks better of it.

It’s hardly a shockable rhythm, hardly any kind of rhythm at that, but although it’s minor, it’s consistent and steady and worth a shot.

“Clear.”

_don’t…_

After the shock, the slight wave begins to balance out into a minor ventricular fibrillation rhythm. It’s barely there, but it’s there.

_don’t die…_

“It’s V-fib!” The scrub nurse reads.

“Let’s go ahead and push Amiodarone.” Niall orders next. “We have to stabilize her.”

_don’t leave me…_

“Yes, Dr. Horan.” The team hurriedly administers the drug through her central line, doing everything to stabilize her heart.

“Charge again, up to 275 this time.” Niall directs, paddles ready once again.

_come on, aves…_

“Clear.”

Louis’ eyes are closed again and he is hardly breathing, immobile as his own heart rate skyrockets out of control, echoing like steel drums in his ears. Was he too bold? Should he have played it more safe? Did he take it too far? It was risky—he knows it was so very risky but—no, if he had a chance to do it all over he would still try. Louis would always try to save the people he cares for. He will always be brave and try as hard as he can no matter what. And right now isn’t the time for him to let fear force him into giving up on her.

“Still in fibrillation, doctor.” The nurse reports, reading off the scattered rhythm patterns.

Louis opens his eyes and determinedly walks around the machinery so he is at Avery’s side, right near her head. He bends down near her peaceful, intubated face. “Avery, listen to me, darling…” Louis whispers to her, eyes desperately searching over her still face. “You are not going to die today.”

“Charging to 300.”

“Aves, my love, you aren’t finished yet, sweetheart. Your life is just getting started. There is so much more for you out there, so much you haven’t done yet or experienced. You have such a beautiful future ahead of you, it’s bright and it’s colorful and it’s yours. All yours. You are _not_ dying today.” Louis whispers boldly in confidence, speaking just as much to himself as he is to her, feeling his eyes burn harshly.

“Charge again.”

“Your father needs you, Avery. He needs you so much, he’ll be so lost without you. You’re everything to him, you always have been…and not only that but—I…I need you...” He pauses weakly, never having admitted these words out loud to her specifically because he was always trying to keep his distance, trying not to cause more confusion for her, but what does any of that matter now. “I need you too. Ever since I held you as a baby in my arms for the first time, I’ve needed you. God, I n-need you so much—more than you’ll ever know. You’re a part of me and you’ve always held my heart…I…I love you, Aves... _I love you.._.”

“Let’s go one last time…” Niall decides, sounding so very wary as he gives the nod to the scrub nurse.

_i need you, i need you, i need you now more than ever_

The moment stretches on for centuries, every single pair of eyes are glued to the heart monitor. Willing and hoping and praying and anticipating. Louis feels his whole entire life flashing before his eyes, nothing has ever felt as momentous and grave as this, his _everything_ is pinned to this moment. Louis feels like he is existing in a tormented paradox; somehow his heart feels as though it’s beating incessantly out of his chest, but also stopped beating entirely. And his breath is coming in labored, heavy huffs behind his surgical mask, but at the same time he is hardly breathing, unable to.

_please don’t go, avery_

Resuscitating her now would be a miracle, an astounding, rare miracle. Louis knows that, he knows how much strain her body has been put through during the last few hours, but he also knows that there has always been something so strangely miraculous about his beautiful golden-eyed girl.

_please, my love…_

A slight peak flares back on the monitor, higher than an unstable ventricular fibrillation peak. And soon comes another, then another, then another; each time growing that much stronger as the peaks begin to stabilize into a marginally normalized rhythm.

“We have sinus rhythm.”

“ _Oh my god…”_ Louis exhales shakily, nearly falling backwards completely and collapsing with crippling relief, letting out all the accumulated breath he’s been holding. He can hardly stand, feeling lightheaded as he reaches a hand out to brace the operating table.

“Pressure is low, but rising steadily.” Niall sighs, almost in disbelief, brow wet with stressed sweat. “Good work, everyone.”

The entire O.R. erupts with joyous celebration and relief, everyone in the room cheering and clapping, except for Louis who still stands stagnant, completely frozen with unfocused eyes, gloved hands hanging down limply against his sides.

“Louis?” Niall eyes him carefully, noticing how stiff and pale he looks.

“Dr. Tomlinson, are you alright?” Dr. Wesley follows, head tilted with concern as Louis’ eyes remain unresponsive.

Chief Aoki and Zayn burst hurriedly into the O.R. next, each holding masks to their faces.

“What’s going on in here?” Steve asks immediately, scanning across the different faces as he searches for an answer. His gaze falls on Louis, looking to him expectantly. “Dr. Tomlinson, give me a status report.”

But Louis doesn’t move. He doesn’t move and he doesn’t speak, face devoid of any one tangible emotion as though in a trance state of shock. Meanwhile, everyone else in the O.R. are looking around curiously at one another, not knowing what exactly to do or say next without Louis’ command.

Zayn takes a few steps towards him, brow furrowed with deepening concern. “Hey, Tomlinson, you good?”

Louis blinks twice, slowly and still not completely focused on any one thing, looking right through Zayn. His mind feels like screeching static and his body weighted heavy like lead, but he blinks once more, removing the ocular scope from his head.

“Um…Dr. Wesley…you can uh…close…Dr. Horan will assist—it’s um…good practice for you—yeah…” Louis mumbles weakly, speaking in a haze as he turns on his heel and heads towards the sterilized door, pushing past both The Chief and his friend without another word. He strips himself of his soiled gown and gloves, yanking his mask from his face and disposing of all of the garments quickly before crossing the barrier of the O.R. to exit.

“Dr. Tomlinson?”

Louis keeps walking, not looking back even as his name is repeatedly called. He stumbles out of the O.R. in an absolute daze, feeling utterly off balance and disoriented. At first he mildly wonders if maybe he’s made himself sick from the extended radiation exposure, but then he realizes that’s not at all why he feels like this. This feels worse than anything radiation poisoning could do to his body.

_she’s ok, she’s ok, she’s ok_

Louis pushes into the first supply closet he sees, locking the door behind him as he slowly sinks down to the floor. His heart is beating wildly, practically out of his chest and his fingers can finally tremble as they’ve been dying to tremble for hours since he started the surgery.

God, he was so _scared_. The whole time he was so fucking scared. And the feeling hasn’t left him, it’s only intensified and Louis is still fucking terrified out of his mind. The bravery and fearlessness laced through rising adrenaline that had come over him in the O.R., that had kept him standing upright and pushing on, is now replaced with sheer terror. Avery could have _died_ in there. He could have actually killed her. He nearly did kill her.

_but she didn’t die, she’s alive_

It feels so unreal, terrifying and so fucking unreal. The tremor that started in his hands, rattles its way up his arms, soon affecting his whole body until he’s left shaking against himself, trembling through the harsh current of ceaseless panic.

_she’s alive, she’s ok, she’s alive_

Louis buries his head in his drawn up knees, cocooning himself away from the world as tightly as he can as he so desperately tries to reel in his emotions and calm back down. But the opposite effect happens as a choked sob escapes his throat. And before he knows it, Louis is full on crying, tears roaring perpetually down his flushed cheeks in hot waves.

And how is it that he has cried more times in the past month than he has in the past eighteen years of his life? How is it that he has no control over his impending emotions anymore and every single thing seems to knock the shit right out of him? Maybe it’s because he finds himself unconditionally caring about someone so much more than reasonably imaginable, to the point where the concept of losing them feels akin to death itself.

Honest to god, it truly felt like he died in that operating room—like he physically died, watching that monitor flat line as though his heart is not only emotionally linked to Avery’s, but also physically. It’s an emptiness paralleled to what he’s experienced in the past, and because of its familiarity, the feeling is manifested in tenfold, shaking him down to his very core. And maybe that’s what death feels like; like watching everything you love be stripped away without being able to do a damn thing to stop it.

Never in his life has fear swallowed him alive like that, to utterly paralyzing degrees. It was a miracle that she stabilized, a rare and shocking _miracle_ that somehow that little girl was able to defy all odds and pull out of that ordeal alive. And Louis is left spinning, struggling to process all that he witnessed because he has no idea how to even begin to explain it, not medically, not physically and certainly not emotionally. All Louis knows is that there is still a physical pain unfurling sharply from the center of his chest as he remembers, in vivid detail, the moment he thought he nearly lost his Aves for good.

Ever since his family died, Louis has been going through life acting like he has nothing to lose. For the most part he has stayed aloof, remaining distant and leaving massive portions of himself closed off and hidden from the world. He’s been successful at it for years, even with his best friends. There’s always a piece of him that holds back, that pulls away, a safeguarding mechanism he set in place years ago to protect himself. It’s what kept him from releasing emotion, from crying, from properly grieving, from truly feeling everything real happening around him. And it allows him the space to convince himself that there’s nothing in his life left to lose. How can there be anything left to lose if he never lets anyone in, if he never allows himself the chance to feel, to care, but if today proves anything, he has _everything_ to lose.

The lifelong battle against his own stifled emotions has been getting the best of him since the day Harry walked into his life. Louis has been fighting it, he’s been fighting against himself with all his might, but with each new day that he begins to let go of the reins a little, comes new realizations about who he really is, opening doors to feelings he never thought he’d feel again.

But now that he’s feeling these emotions, experiencing all the many ways they can shape and change his life, he doesn’t understand how anyone can live like this. How does anyone on this earth live with a binding feeling, as overwhelming as this, coursing through them every minute of the day? How is he supposed to function day-to-day when all he can do is _worry_ —worry about potentially losing the very people who hold his trampled heart in the palm of their hands.

Louis doesn’t properly remember what it feels like to have a family, all he can remember is the feeling of losing one. And he’s so fucking scared of that feeling, traumatized by the horribly lonesome, abandoned feeling that lingers long after. It haunts him continually—mercilessly, to the point where Louis has developed a twisted sense of trepidation when it comes to the concept of love and being in love and falling in love, terrified of the possibility that in a blink of an eye everything he ever cared about could be gone.

But he wants to believe that life isn’t always like that, with everything Louis so desperately wants to believe that things really do work out sometimes and his fears are nothing but irrational thoughts. But as he sits crumpled up into a ball on the supply closet floor, uncontrollably sobbing into the knees of his scrub pants, Louis can only feel that same heartrending fear. He can only feel the raw, exposed scar tissue his past tragedies have harrowingly left on his heart time and time again.

And truth be told, it doesn’t feel quite so irrational after all.


	17. seventeen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> youtube playlist for [chapter](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtl_5WFZR5Jw4wRWtG-W_MD)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello loves! this is the latest I have EVER been on an update of any work of mine and that's really so awful but I promise I wasn't making you all wait on purpose. Ive just been busy and this chapter has a lot going on and I wanted to make sure I didn't overly rush it, you know? its like 30k or something wild idk but I hope it maybe makes up for the long ass wait lmao 
> 
> well, I won't ramble any longer lol, I humbly present to you ch 17, alternatively titled 'louis and the terrible horrible no good very bad day' lmao I'm kidding...sort of..
> 
> love you all so, so dearly!  
> love lex .x

_make it whole again._

||✚||

 

Time is such an odd and peculiar thing. He’s thought about it before, he’s sure. In fact, He’s probably reflected upon the concept a million and one times before, but yet it still feels strange that a single second can be made to feel like a stretched-out eternity while somehow on the same plane of existence, hours can pass in what could only be described as an instant.

Harry has felt the strange, confusing effects of both peculiarities in his life, but never has there been a time when the consistency of the clock has been so misconstrued in his mind. Seeming to slow down and speed up at will, crawling by in painfully slow increments, while also jumping from hour to hour in a rushed blur, holding him at the mercy of the ticking clock for the past nineteen hours.

Starting at 8:34 A.M. when Harry first settles down in the waiting room, joined by Liam supportively at his side. Together they talk and talk, Liam serving as the perfect distraction for Harry’s thoughts. Harry talks himself in circles, essentially telling Liam his entire life story from birth just to keep himself active and occupied. But Liam, with his kind eyes and gentle demeanor, has a way of making Harry feel so comfortable, listening to every last thing he says like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever heard. Harry talks himself nearly to death by 12:13 P.M. and that’s when it becomes Liam’s turn to spill his side. And if Harry thought he could talk, it’s nothing compared to the way Liam can, but Harry welcomes it all fully, enjoying every minute of conversation and company with him.

At 2:32 P.M. Harry gets up to take a little walk around the grounds, legs feeling as unsteady and weak as stilts, but the movement feels necessary. Liam of course comes along, giving Harry a new route around the hospital that he’s never been on before, but actually quite likes.

They’re back in the waiting room by 4:18 P.M. and Liam decides that Harry needs to eat something, despite Harry’s continued refusals. Liam runs off to get him food anyway, returning only twenty minutes later with deliciously smelling food for the both of them that Harry can hardly look at, let alone stomach, but he’s continually grateful to Liam regardless.

Around 5:49 P.M. Harry just can’t take it anymore and he breaks down and cries, releasing some of the accumulating uneasiness rising up inside him. Liam holds him the entire time, and by the time 7:56 P.M. rolls around, Harry is balled up so tightly around Liam, he might as well be in his lap. Spending an entire day with Liam in the close capacity that they’ve been in, has been like some kind of accelerated relationship building, to the point where Harry basically trusts Liam with his entire life.

9:27 P.M. is when Harry closes his eyes only to wake up at 9:32 P.M. thinking it has been hours and wishing that he could somehow sleep right through all of this. He’s completely exhausted and he would sleep if he could find a way to sleep. A way to push everything else aside and grant his body what it so desperately craves.

At 10:28 P.M. Liam brings him fresh coffee, which helps a little; Harry focuses his delirious attention on the sensation of the warm liquid warming up his throat. But moments later at 10:43 P.M., a wave of anxiety comes over him stronger than Harry’s ever known and suddenly he can’t stop thinking about what Louis might be doing in this exact moment, what step of the procedure he’s on, what his thoughts look like, what his fears look like.

Can Louis tell if she’s going to make it? Can he predict the outcome based on what he’s already done so far? What has he done so far? Is she even stable right now? What are her vital stats like? What if she’s already dead and no one has the heart to tell him yet?

It’s a downward spiral of anxious thoughts and vexed fears, but somehow Liam combats them all with calm, reassuring answers, talking Harry through every last one of his uncertainties. And Harry swears to god, that he doesn’t know what he would have done all this time without Liam sitting patiently by his side, knowing exactly when to talk and when to be silent. He can’t imagine spending this entire time alone with his own demons and he thanks every single guardian angel that he might have for sending him Liam Payne.

By 12:51 A.M. Harry is sick of coffee. So fucking sick of fucking hospital coffee. He’s downed more cups than he can count, and it doesn’t even have a real taste anymore. Or maybe he just can’t taste anything anymore, can’t feel anything anymore. Nothing but residual anxiety. He’s barely holding himself together and Harry doesn’t know how much more waiting his strained heart can take. The sheer stress alone has elevated his heartrate tenfold, to a range that even he knows can’t be healthy. But Harry just tries his best to breathe, spending the next hour focusing solely on his breathing. He hears Louis’ calm voice in his head, whispering in his ear, reminding him to just inhale and exhale. He lets his eyes drift and takes in one deep breath after another and in time he feels his heartrate steadily begin to come down.

But it all goes to shit at 3:51 A.M. because that’s when Harry’s heart seems to stop beating altogether.

With Harry’s head rested comfortably on Liam’s sturdy shoulder, he can feel the exact moment Liam tenses up. Feel the second Liam’s body goes stiff, long before his own name is called, and he knows exactly what’s to come next.

“Harry?”

Harry shuts his eyes for a beat, inhaling once, then twice, before gradually lifting his heavy head up to the approaching doctor standing before him. And he already feels like throwing up, nausea waving right over him like a flood to his senses. He can’t handle this, he can’t do this again. It’s far too familiar for anyone to be forced to relive.

He’s about to bolt, to cover his ears and scream, to shout at the top of his lungs, to cover his eyes and cry, to do _anything_ but sit here and retrace memories that haven’t even had a chance to fade in his mind. But then he feels the comforting touch of Liam’s warm hand back around his, holding on tightly, grounding him and serving to remind him that it’s not the same and he’s not all alone and maybe, just maybe things will be different this time around.

Harry squeezes Liam’s hand back, or maybe he’s hardly squeezing it all. It’s hard to tell really, hard to feel anything but the thrum of rising dread boiling under his skin. He forces himself to focus, weakly scanning the face of the doctor in front of him, and he grows even more faint when he realizes that it’s not Louis’ face looking back at him. And it only now dawns on him that the voice that called his name defiantly wasn’t Louis’ either, but Niall’s.

Liam looks equally confused by the lack of Louis’ presence and it only causes Harry to panic further. Because if Louis isn’t here, then whatever Niall has to say to him can’t be good. Maybe Louis doesn’t know how to break the news to him this time, maybe it’s too much for even him to come to grips with. No, but that can’t be true because if the outcome was bad, Louis would be here—he would be here no matter what, he always has been. Harry doesn’t even know if he could stomach hearing any bad news without Louis by his side. He softens the initial blow, no matter how painful or horrifying, Louis somehow makes it bearable, makes it sufferable.

Harry stands to his feet, refusing to sit any longer, trying to get out of his own head. He’s getting ahead of himself—he knows it, but he can’t help it. He wants to answer calmly, he wants to get through this with a level head, but maybe it’s too late for any of that.

“Dr. Horan? Where’s…w-where is Louis?” Harry stutters unsurely under bated breath, well acquainted with the familiar panic filling his chest to the very brim. It’s no surprise to Harry when he feels tears already prickling at the corners of his eyes, burning under the rims. And he doesn’t even want to ask, he doesn’t want to hear the words that he knows will be his very undoing. “Did it…go bad? Is…is that w-why he’s—I mean did s-she…erm d-did…is she g-gone—”

“No, no! Harry, _no_.” Niall rushes to say, holding both of his hands to Harry’s nearly trembling shoulders. He then tugs Harry towards his chest into a reassuring hug Harry wasn’t expecting, but definitely appreciates. “She made it.” Niall whispers in what sounds like genuine awe and wonder. “She made it through the surgery.”

“W-What…” Harry blinks at a loss, dry mouth hanging open in shock. He’s not even sure the word came out of his mouth at all. He heard Niall, or he thought he did but…he doesn’t believe his ears—can’t risk believing his ears because he’s too afraid of letting his guard down long enough to accept the truth.

Niall pulls back to look right into Harry’s eyes, smiling as he nods his head. “Harry, she’s _ok_. Your daughter is ok. she’s stable.”

It’s not that Harry didn’t have every single faith in Louis, because he _did_ , of course he did. He trusts Louis with everything and Harry always knew that Louis would do the very best that he could. It’s just that Harry’s life has always been filled with incessant disappointments and unremitting heartbreaks and because of that, he spent the last nineteen hours in the waiting room steeling himself up for the potential news of his daughter not making it out of surgery.

But to hear that his Avery, his baby, is _alive_. That she is not only alive, but she made it through the surgery successfully and that she’s currently stable, is more than Harry can possibly take. And right now, he is so grateful that Niall hasn’t let go of his shoulders yet, because he feels too overcome to stand on his own, legs threatening to give out completely.

“Whoa, Harry. Are you alright?” Niall catches him, strong arms taking on Harry’s full weight as he nearly passes out against him. “Here let’s sit back down.” Niall eases him back into one of the waiting chairs, settling down next to him as Liam follows suit.

“S-She’s—she’s really o-ok?” Harry asks Niall uncertainly, eyes overflowing with a sudden rush of tears.

“Yes.” Niall smiles warmly, hand on Harry’s back in reassurance. “She really is ok.”

And Harry couldn’t possibly stop any of his emotions after hearing that, after finally accepting it as the truth. He completely breaks down right then and there, holding his head in his hands, hunched over himself as the news continuously waves over him. The tears flow unstoppably down his face, but for once they are tears of relief, tears of happiness, tears of a father who won’t have to know the pain of burying his only child.

“Happy tears this time I hope.” Liam gently pulls Harry towards him, offering his shoulder to cry on and holding Harry securely just as he has all night.

“Avery isn’t awake yet, but her vital stats are climbing and she’s completely stable. We are keeping her sedated for a few more hours to give her body a chance to recuperate from the procedure.” Niall explains, giving Harry further insight. “We won’t know for certain how well her body has taken the treatment until we compare her pre-op and post-op scans as well as conduct a thorough assessment, but everything seems very promising at this point.”

“T-Thank you s-so much.” Harry turns and throws his arms around Niall, engulfing him into a grateful hug.

“Oh, it was all Louis—it was his plan and he pulled it off. He was…absolutely _brilliant_. He never gave up on her. Not once.” Niall praises. “If it wasn’t for him and how headstrong and determined he is, I truthfully don’t know how it would have ended.”

Harry lifts his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he sniffles. He knows he looks a right mess, but he can’t seem to care right now. “W-Where is he? I h-have to talk to him.”

“He um…I…erm…” Niall stammers, sharing a long, unspoken look with Liam, who begins to furrow his brow in concern.

Harry looks between the two of them, confusion wrinkling his features as he waits for Niall to answer. “Where is Louis?”

“Niall, what happened?” Liam urges, tone of voice shifting as he leans closer to Niall.

Niall looks torn, opening his mouth to speak, but no words coming out for several strung-out seconds. Then he directs his attention to Liam, inclined towards him. “Dr. Payne, could I speak with you for a moment?”

“Yes, of course.” Liam nods to his colleague before addressing Harry in a gentle, soothing voice. “We’ll be right back, ok Harry. Excuse us.”

Niall and Liam stand off to the corner in what appears to be a serious discussion. Harry watches the entire thing, becoming more curious the longer they’re away. Niall tells Liam something and Liam’s eyebrows shoot up as he shakes his head, eyes going wide. They go back and forth for a while after that, seeming to deliberate with each other about something. Liam glances to Harry briefly as the conversation continues and Harry can only sit there in helpless confusion.  

When they both finally return, it’s Liam who speaks first, tone more serious than Harry’s heard it all night. “Harry, I think there are some things you should know.”

“Ok…” Harry sniffles, eyes shifting back and forth from Liam to Niall, not knowing who to focus on. His throat feels so dry all of a sudden and he doesn’t at all like the tonal shift this conversation has taken on.

“There’s a fine line here that we’re about to cross by telling you this…but…” Liam pauses, taking his words one at a time as he casts a brief look to Niall at his side. “We feel like you should know because of your relationship to Louis.”

That’s when Harry really starts to internally worry, knowing his emotions are transparent on his face. “Is…is something wrong? Did something happen to him?”

“The surgery itself was a success, like I said before, but um…it put Louis in a really tough position…a position I don’t know if he was ready to handle.” Niall tries to explain, but it seems he doesn’t even know where to start. He looks exhausted, with clear lines of worry pulling at his eyes. “It was so hard on him, Harry. Not just the physical length of the procedure or the skill involved but…the mental stress—his emotions were tied to everything he did and he…he just…”

Harry feels as though he is hanging off of Niall’s every word, afraid to hear what’s to come, but also needing to hear it more than anything. “He what…”

“You know him—probably better than anyone else, you know more about his past, about what he hides inside every day. You know exactly how much he cares. Louis cares with every part of himself and today…in there…he just—he stopped thinking. He wasn’t operating as an experienced surgeon would…he wasn’t even acting like himself—he risked his _life_ in there, Harry.” Niall emphasizes, shaking his head at a loss for what to say next. “Without hesitation he broke code and he made dangerous decisions that jeopardized his own health and safety—in all the years I’ve known and worked with him, I’ve never seen him like that before…”

Harry can only manage to gasp breathlessly in alarm, holding a hand over his chest as he feels his heart rate quicken at the prospect of Louis being hurt in any capacity. He wants to be mad, mad that Louis would do anything to put himself in harm’s way, but Harry also knows exactly why he did it. And if the roles were somehow reversed Harry knows he wouldn’t have done any differently. Still, putting himself in Louis’ shoes, remembering exactly how traumatized he is, how that same trauma has shaped him into who he currently is as a person, Harry can’t help but feel a deep sense of unease, unnerved worry clutched to his heart unlike ever before.

“Where is he now?” Harry is up on his feet before he’s even registered the act of standing, ready to sprint off and find Louis wherever he may be.

“Harry—”

“No…no, w-where is he?” Harry questions again, the fluctuation of his voice growing frantic and unsteady. It’s hard to remain calm when all he can picture is Louis falling apart alone somewhere, trying to deal with all of this by himself. He shouldn’t be alone, especially not after something as severe as this, after imperiling every aspect of himself in such dangerous ways. The mere thought of Louis left completely alone at a time like this is a nightmare for Harry to envision, an honest to god _nightmare_.

“We don’t know.” Niall tries to explain. “He ran out of the O.R. over an hour ago and I haven’t seen him since. Zayn and Charlie are looking everywhere for him right now.”

Harry doesn’t care who is looking for him, because it’s not enough, not if Louis is still missing. He won’t ever be calm until Louis is found, until he is safe in Harry’s arms again. “I have to find him. I have to—”

“Harry, calm down.” Liam places his hands on Harry’s shoulders, trying to focus him. “We’ll find him, he’s here somewhere.”

Harry shakes his head adamantly, unable to stop picturing Louis broken and isolated somewhere. “But I need to be with him…I…I…”

“I know.” Liam nods, kind eyes empathetic and so full of understanding.

“He’s not o-ok…there’s no way he’s ok and, a-and I—”

“We’ll find him.” Liam assures, always somehow able to speak in confidence. He glances back to Niall. “Where have you checked so far?”

“A few nurses said that they saw him go to the supply closet by O.R. three, but he’s not there anymore. And he’s not in the attendings’ lounge or down in the basement.”

“The gift shop?” Liam suggests.

“Zayn just checked there and they said that Louis hasn’t been by at all today.” Niall replies. “But his car is still here in his spot, so we at least know that he didn’t leave the hospital.”

Harry blindly watches them go back and forth, hardly even listening as he thinks to himself. There’s only so many places that Louis would go—yes, it’s a huge hospital with no shortage of places he could go, but it’s only about where he actually _would_. Harry closes his eyes for a moment, focusing his thoughts.

_where are you, lou?_

“What about an on-call room or something?” Liam throws out, thinking out loud.

“He hates on-call rooms, you know that.” Niall reminds obviously.

Liam nods slightly, but also shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah…but maybe he needed to sleep or—”

“I think I know where he is…” Harry blurts suddenly, cutting Liam short as it dawns on him as clear as day.

Niall and Liam both turn to Harry simultaneously, eyeing him curiously. “What? How do you know?”

Harry slowly shakes his head, frowning a bit to himself. “I don’t know…but I need one of your badges.”

 

||✚||

 

Harry gets off of the lift in a rush, not wasting a single second as he crosses the hall, heading towards the only door at the far end of it. He’s got Liam’s SSMC ID badge ready in his hand, and as soon as he reaches the heavy door, he swipes it against the access pad until it glows green and clicks open.

The air is unexpectedly brisk at this altitude, whipping Harry’s curls from his face the moment he steps out onto the rooftop. The area appears completely empty at first glance, it’s hardly light out yet, only the beginning hues of deep orange glow over the shadowed edges of the building. It’s a wide roof, expansive as it covers the vicinity of an entire hospital building, but there aren’t too many places to hide, aside from the hidden corners.

“Louis…Lou—are you there?” Harry calls unsurely, taking the first few steps out onto the roof with his chilled hands stuffed into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. “…It’s me…it’s Harry…” 

There’s no answer to his call; all that can be heard is the sound of early morning traffic bustling from down below. But still, Harry knows Louis is up here somewhere, he can feel it. As strange as that might be to admit, Harry knows without a doubt in his mind that this is where Louis would go.

“Please Lou…I just want to know if you’re ok…” Harry tries again, his voice carrying with the breeze as he rounds the first corner. “Just let me know you’re ok...”

The silence drags on further still, but Harry can’t bring himself to give up and leave, not this easily. Minutes are quietly passing him by, but he is compelled to keep going, conflicted by something he doesn’t even fully understand.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8UkXdvh5Xa0&t=0s&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtl_5WFZR5Jw4wRWtG-W_MD&index=2)

Harry hears him before he actually sees him. He reaches another corner and turns to find Louis sat against the far wall of the roof with his knees pulled up against his chest, folded into a crumpled ball. And just as Harry imagined, it’s clear that Louis is so, so very far from being ok. His entire face is red and ruddy, hair completely disheveled by the blowing wind as he hiccups back wretched sobs from somewhere deep down in his throat.  

“Oh _Lou.”_ Harry breathes out the moment he first lays eyes on him. It’s devastating to see him held so small and so frightened, unlike his usual self. He’s clearly traumatized, all that Louis just went through evident on his splotchy, tearstained face.

As Louis looks up and his eyes come to recognize Harry standing before him, his relieved face begs a silent question, seeming to wordlessly wonder how Harry was able to find him. But truthfully, Harry couldn’t answer that question if he tried because he has no earthly idea. It doesn’t logically make sense why Harry knew to come up here, he just did. He can’t explain it and he would never try to, all he knows is that when it comes to Louis, Harry would go straight to hell and back for him.

_i’d always find you…_

Harry doesn’t hesitate to drop right to his knees and pull Louis into his arms, crowding his space. Louis doesn’t fight him, still crying as he buries his face against Harry’s chest, seeming to fall apart that much more in his arms.

“H-Harry…” Louis cries his name through a broken gasp as he clings to him, fingers bunching up the material of Harry’s jacket. His voice has an air of relief to it, but it sounds so desperately hoarse and the raw, broken strain of it brings instant tears to Harry’s eyes. Within seconds Louis’ entire body is curled around Harry as though he’s somehow convinced that at any minute, he’s going to lose him.

“I’m here, I’m right here.” Harry murmurs to the top of his head, both arms encircled tightly around Louis’ back to console him. He knows exactly what it’s like to not feel grounded despite the solid earth at his feet, to feel displaced in a moment with nothing to hold him down.

Held this close together, Harry can feel the sporadic racing of Louis’ heartbeat, thumping along wildly with his quivering frame. He can feel every time Louis’ lungs attempt to take in a new breath, how staggered and strangled it feels with his continued sobs, like no matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to catch his breath.

And Harry feels the gravity of every sob and weight of each tear Louis sheds as if it was originally born from his own chest. It hurts to see the man he loves so shaken, so distraught, held so small and shattered in his arms. There are no words adequate enough to describe the internal anguish Harry feels in this moment, witnessing Louis’ torment and not being able to vanquish it away. It’s the same exact torturous feeling Harry felt previously when Louis cried in his arms as they laid in the dewy meadow. It’s beyond heartrending and Harry swears he wouldn’t hesitate to take his own heart clean apart if it helps Louis’ begin beat again.

“I’m so sorry, baby…” Harry finds himself mumbling softly, lips pressed to Louis’ temple as he lets the soft endearment slip. He gradually nuzzles his nose down, gliding his hand up to Louis’ hair to cradle his head. “I know it hurts. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

He risked so much—of his career, of himself, of his _sanity_. It was a lot to ask of any one person, but Louis was so determined not to lose another person in his life that he didn’t care about the risk or the detrimental cost to himself. Harry’s never known anyone more selflessly brave, anyone more dedicated and valiantly devoted to doing good no matter what.

Without Louis needing to speak a word, Harry knows that it’s not just the surgery or this one stripped moment that’s triggered him so; it’s an accumulation of displaced feelings and overlooked fears, guarded memories and misdirected emotions teeming out of him with no place to go.

God, and the emotions themselves truly are all over, coming from every possible angle and approach, nearly indiscernible at this point. Harry isn’t certain whether he should feel more thankful or sorry, whether his response should be more rooted in fear over Louis’ wellbeing or anger that it’s somehow gotten this bad. Fighting between feelings of tremendous pride for Louis swelling up in his heart, alongside thoughts of consuming worry plaguing his consciousness. And if it’s this confusing and overwhelming for Harry to process, he can’t even imagine all that Louis must be feeling inside.

They sit together, inseparable, tangled and twisted up on the roof of the hospital, both crying in each other’s arms. But Harry couldn’t care less about himself right now, his primary focus is still only on reassuring Louis, on calming him down.

Louis is mumbling quiet, unintelligible words though his sobs, voice muffled against the material of Harry’s hoodie. With the sound of the whistling wind blowing across the rooftop, Harry can’t even make out what he’s saying, but it tugs at his heart regardless. Louis is scared, genuinely scared, panicked right out of his mind, and it’s terrifying how easily old scars of residual loss can feel as new as freshly inflicted wounds if pressured enough, if tormented enough, aggravated and teased into bleeding once again.

The longer Harry holds his arms around Louis, the more he begins to settle. The sobs begin to slow down and his breathing becomes a bit more regulated. Louis still hasn’t loosened his grip around Harry in the slightest, holding on for dear life. Every so often his body will still shiver and Harry realizes that it’s not just the settling panic, but that his whole body is chilled. Harry isn’t sure how long Louis was out here before he got to him, but he isn’t even wearing his lab coat, only covered by the thin layer of his scrubs. He probably wasn’t thinking about any of it when he rushed up here, just needing to escape to a quiet moment more than anything else.

Harry pulls back enough to slip off his sweatshirt, unhesitant to gently slide it over Louis’ head and pull his bare arms through the sleeves. He gently holds both of his warm hands to the cold skin of Louis’ face, pushing his hair back from where it’s fallen and flopped over his eyes.

“You’re ok…” Harry whispers reassuringly, thumbing away the still falling water tracks as he softly traces the sides of Louis’ face. Louis’ arms have found their way back around Harry’s waist where they belong, seeming unwilling and unable to let him go for too long. He keeps his eyes locked on Harry’s, searching them without a word as Harry holds his head with both his hands. “You’re ok now, Lou.”

They hold each other’s gaze in the silent stillness of the dawn. The sun is just starting to rise over the Seattle city skyline, the early trickles of morning light reflecting across the teary clear blue of Louis’ eyes. It’s striking how much more blue his eyes become when he cries, rich and vibrant, and Harry is utterly captivated. He’s beautiful in this light, even in such profound heartbreak and distress, Louis is still so tragically _beautiful_. The fresh new rays of the rising sun cast a fresh glow upon his face that could only ever be described as ethereal, curving against his sharp cheekbones, dusting his long eyelashes, and all Harry knows is that he is so in love with Louis. So in love that it hurts, and it aches, expanding so far outside of himself, it can’t even begin to be contained.

He’s never loved anyone like he loves Louis, never felt anything close to what he feels for him. Harry has never in his life believed in anything as much as he believes in all that Louis is, and he’s never known and understood someone quite like he inherently knows Louis, with a deep intensity unprecedented by any other feeling.

The complexities that compel Louis are multifarious, an intricate work of beautiful art comprised of the devastated moments of his past molding and defining who he is. There are pieces of himself that deny him from fully feeling things for what they are. And maybe that’s why when it comes to the concept of love, Louis doesn’t always feel it as he should—doesn’t _allow_ himself to feel it, to get close to it, not anymore. Whether Louis even believes Harry or not, Harry doesn’t know, but Harry meant it more than anything he has ever said, he _loves_ Louis. Completely, unconditionally, no matter what comes next or what has already come before.

All Harry wants is to see him happy, see him carefree and light. _Laughing_. Oh, how lovely and young Louis looks when he laughs, bright eyes squinted at the corners, wide smile curtained by the prettiest lips. Harry remembers all the times they laughed together, all the times Harry nearly forgot to breathe because he was so mesmerized by the beautiful boy next to him. And Harry knows the role he played in diminishing the brightness in Louis’ eyes, he knows exactly how much damage he did all those years ago, but as much as it may be to ask of him, Harry wants Louis to just let him _try_. Try to help him heal with all the love Harry has for him, try to shoulder the encumbering weight of all that burdens Louis down. Harry would do anything to stop the falling of Louis’ tears, he would do absolutely anything to find a way to calm his fears. Beneath all the pain, behind the layers of hurt, there’s still a beautiful boy with the brightest laugh in the world and Harry is determined to bring him back.

“Lou…I love you…” Harry can’t help himself from saying it aloud, can’t help himself from wanting Louis to feel as loved as he is. He’s not trying to overwhelm him, but simply to remind him and make him feel all the love Harry will always have for him. He refuses to let any more time pass them by without Louis knowing and understanding just how loved by him he really is. “I love you so much.”

Louis hears him, Harry knows that he does, and he hasn’t taken his gaze off of Harry once since locking eyes with him. Quiet tears roll down his still wet cheeks as he remains wordless and Harry didn’t realize until now how much he wants Louis to say it back— _needs_ him to say it. Harry knows that he could make Louis happy, so very happy and he could bring that smile back and relight the brightness in his eyes and Harry swears that he would go to the far ends of the earth to do it.

Louis tilts his head to the side gradually as he continues to gaze openly at Harry. He’s fighting something inside, Harry is almost sure of it, but what he’s not sure of is what it is exactly or which way it’s pulling him, but it’s brewing harshly behind his now stormy eyes. And frankly, Harry feels utterly terrified by the silence of it all, far too much hanging in the balance between them.

Louis’ hand is resting on the center of Harry’s chest, while Harry’s are both still cradled to his teary face. And maybe it’s not exactly the right time, but when is it ever? There’s never a right time for anything in this life. Harry is praying that Louis says it, holding his breath that the next words out of Louis’ mouth are the ones he’s longing to finally hear.

_tell me you love me too…_

If all it really is is three simple words, why is Harry so desperate for them? If all it is is eight simple letters strung together, how is it that Harry feels as though he might die if he doesn’t hear them pouring out from Louis’ lips, soft and gentle like a very first kiss. Harry needs to hear it, like he needs air to breathe, knowing in his heart that even if Louis were to refuse to be his, Harry would always belong only to him.

_please_

“H…” Louis whispers faintly, so faintly that Harry almost misses it. And he honestly would have missed it, if he wasn’t staring so intently at Louis’ mouth, watching the letter form around his lips. But Louis doesn’t say anything further, he just starts to slowly shake his head.

And as much as Harry intrinsically understands Louis, as much as he can sense what he’s feeling, Harry doesn’t know what he means or what he’s saying with the gradual shaking of his head, but the conflicted look behind his eyes once again terrifies Harry. Louis’ body is pulling Harry closer, clinging to him, but yet his eyes are asking him for space.

It doesn’t make sense, none of it makes any perceivable sense. Is Louis saying no? No to what exactly? No to this? No to them? Is he just scared? Confused, maybe? It’s hard to really know, but there are still soundless tears flowing heavily down Louis’ cheeks. Harry could ask, he could open his mouth and ask what the look in Louis’ eyes means, beg him to say something definite, but Harry would almost rather not know, terrified of an answer he doesn’t think he could bear to hear.

And maybe he’s not meant to know, because in the next moment, before either of them can say anything more, Louis’ pager goes off, ringing and buzzing from where it’s clipped to Louis’ waistband.

“Louis.” Harry says his name gently, quietly, soft fingers still stroking the tearstains away. Not only does he not want Louis to leave this roof with all the unanswered questions floating between them, but more importantly, Harry doesn’t want Louis to be alone somewhere in the high emotional state that he’s in.

But it seems that’s exactly what Louis is dead set on doing, the sound of his pager snapping him out of whatever tranced moment he was having with Harry.

Every instinct Harry has inside is telling him to grab onto Louis and refuse to let him leave. Pull Louis right back into his arms where he belongs and hold him until they begin to work through all this. But maybe Harry can’t save him this time, maybe there are some things Louis needs to work through on his own. People always say, if you love someone set them free. Set them free and if it’s meant to be, they’ll come right back to you. Harry doesn’t know if that’s actually true or just some bullshit people say to comfort themselves when things don’t go as planned. But he wants the best for Louis, that’s all he could ever want and if Louis needs space then Harry won’t deny him.

It’s frustrating, Harry would never lie and claim otherwise. But it’s worth it, everything is worth it for Louis. He’s going to be patient, he promised Louis that he would be, and he meant it. As long as it takes, whatever it takes, as long as he is willing, Harry is determined to be there for Louis, however he needs, every single step of the way.

 

||☤||

 

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OaLjF5w88-w&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtl_5WFZR5Jw4wRWtG-W_MD&index=2)

Louis makes it from outside on the roof to the inside of the elevator on a single held breath, only releasing it once the heavy metal doors have clicked shut. And as the floors begin to ding one by one down the many hospital levels to Radiology, Louis’ heart starts to plunge further down inside his chest. He isn’t ready to walk into that imaging room, he still isn’t ready to review Avery’s initial post-op scans. Worse, better, the same—it doesn’t quite matter, the fact remains, Louis is not _ready_.

He’s all over the place and despite how many deep breaths he forces himself to take in, it still feels like the walls of this confined space are slowly caving in on him. And it doesn’t take long before Louis is hitting the red emergency stop button, bringing the lift to a complete halt. Louis leans his weight against the wall, shutting his eyes as his forehead presses against the cool metal lining the elevator walls. His hands hold tight to the railing along the side, begging himself to just get a fucking grip.

But he _can’t_.

Truthfully, if Louis had his way right now, he’d still be curled up somewhere crying through his vast array of overwhelming fears until he’d wrung himself utterly dry. It’s why he went up to the roof in the first place, to ease his panicked terrors and calm all the insecurities suddenly running rampant through his unhinged thoughts. Going up there was meant to reassure him, soothe him enough to make it through the day as it has before. Louis thought maybe the stark sensation of the cool breeze whipping against his skin or the fresh air filling his lungs would do something to recenter him, tether him back to the escaping ground. But in so many terrifying ways he’s still free falling, hopelessly suspended on a harrowing plane of limbo ever since he stepped out of that operating room. All he wants to do is plant two steady feet on solid ground again; take a step and know in confidence that it’s not going to send him plummeting down even further than he started.

But the roof couldn’t help him do that this time around, not the fresh early morning air or the spectacular view or the calming skyline he’s come to appreciate so much. Louis is far too forgone for any of that. No, nothing came close to grounding him, but the familiar arms of one person.

And maybe Louis will never quite understand how one single person—one _man_ , can make everything suddenly feel so easy and _right_ in a world that’s always been so hard and impossibly _wrong_.

Harry.

God, _Harry_.

Louis can still smell the sweet, longed-for scent of him, content to be surrounded by him, wishing to be comforted by him. How does he always do that—how does Harry’s presence never fail to make him feel so safe? From the way he held Louis, fiercely protective and attentive to his every need, yet gentle and patient with his warm touch; to the way he found him, picking Louis out like a needle in a haystack as though it was nothing at all.

Louis burrows his nose down to the neckline of Harry’s soft sweater, inhaling until he actually feels like he’s really breathing again. Harry is the only breath of fresh air that matters, the only person who gets through the dense fog that seems to always shadow Louis from moment to moment.

And he’s also the one person Louis knows that he so desperately wants, but doesn’t know if he should have—or if he’s meant to have.

But maybe…he’s come close enough for now.

Louis can’t explain it, he really can’t and he’s almost positive he would sound insane if he tried because Harry is right for him in every way Louis can begin to think of, in every way that there is—he is, he really _is_. And it’s truly cruel how well his beleaguered mind can trap and chain him in a prism of merciless contradictions, how much it has the ability to exhaust him to the point where doubt becomes enough and a drop of fear multiplies into an entire ocean and he actually begins to believe that he shouldn’t have Harry.

Louis’ eyes start to water as he thinks about it, biting down hard on his bottom lip as he tries to hold it all back, tries to stop himself from going there before it’s too late to come back. He’s not going to start full on crying again, he’s not—not right now.

_don’t cry, don’t…_

He’s barely holding on, barely holding it together, with one hand covered over his breaking face, head thrown back against the elevator wall. His pager buzzes again in his pocket with another reminder from The Radiology Department about the scans and he realizes he never even replied to say he’s on his way. Probably because he doesn’t want to be on his way, he doesn’t want to do this yet. He doesn’t know what the fuck he wants to do—nothing, he wants to do nothing and say nothing and hear nothing and just… _be_ nothing. Just until he can figure himself out.

He uses the long sleeves of Harry’s jumper to swipe under his tearful eyes, taking in whatever breaths he can before releasing the elevator’s emergency stop. Louis tries as hard as he can to make his thoughts as blank and empty as possible, choking down the panic, strangling out the fear and repressing away his out of control emotions until he can manage some sort of mask and appear passably ok.

_you’re fine, everything is fine…_

When Louis finally reaches the imaging room, he’s surprised to find Liam, Zayn, and Niall already there waiting for him.

“Lou.” Liam rushes over and wraps Louis up in a tight hug right away. And it doesn’t take long for Zayn to join in, followed by Niall until they’re a ball of tangled limbs holding each other with Louis at the center.

And it feels good, the pressure to his body, the genuine support of his closest friends by his side, serving as a slight reprieve from the onslaught of chaos that refuses to leave him.

“What are you all doing here?” Louis asks quietly, mumbled against Liam’s shoulder.

“We wanted to make sure that you’re ok and we didn’t want you to be alone when you saw the scans.” Liam replies.

“And we brought you food, because you haven’t eaten anything in ages.” Niall says next.

“And Skittles.” Zayn adds with a small knowing smile. “Two different ones just how you like them.”

Louis is rarely one without words, but he really doesn’t know what to say. It’s sweet and incredibly thoughtful and he has never loved his best friends more. There’s never been a time where they didn’t come through for him right when he needed them, in fact most of the time he doesn’t even have to ask.

“Thanks guys…really, thank you for everything.” Louis manages a slight smile that just barely meets his tired eyes. He knows it’s not much of a thank you, hardly the grand thanks they truly deserve; and Louis swears he’s going to do something really nice for them after all this is over, but they don’t seem to care about any of that, only caring about him.

Zayn slips his arm around Louis’ waist. “You know we’re always here for you.”

Louis nods quietly, leaning his weight against Zayn.

“I know it’s only been a few hours, but how are you holding up?” Liam asks, pulling back as he intently inspects Louis. “Are you ok?”  

_i feel horrible, fucking horrible_

“Um…yeah…I’m ok...” Louis tries, voice raspy and low as he shrugs off his words.

Niall tilts his head at him, not at all masking his growing concern. “I think you should go down to the lab and get checked out after this.”

“Yeah Lou, just to be safe.” Zayn agrees, rubbing Louis’ side. “Radiation poisoning is nothing to play around with.”

“No, I’m ok—I’m fine, really.” Louis insists a bit more believably this time around. “I’m just…you know—a bit tired, yeah.”

The three of them remain unconvinced, each of them assessing Louis in their own way and Louis hates being so closely analyzed, like being under a microscope.

“Honestly lads, I’m a doctor in a room full of more doctors. If there was really something physically wrong with me, I think we would all know by now.” Louis reminds. He has none of the usual symptoms that accompany radiation poisoning. And he knows he’s lucky, if he had messed around any longer with the radiation during surgery, he would definitely be in dire need of treatment. But the treatment he’s probably in most need of right now is a good therapy session; he’s had multiple panic attacks in only a few hours’ time and there’s no telling how many more are to come.

“Well, have you talked with Harry?”

And there it is. Louis nearly winces at the sound of his name, afraid of the horribly emotional response hearing it is sure to bring out of him, leaving cracks in the masked charade he’s trying so hard to uphold.

“I wish you could have seen his face when Niall told him that Avery made it out of surgery, he was so relieved—he couldn’t even believe it at first.” Liam continues without Louis needing to answer. “He nearly worried himself sick last night over you and her, he was a complete mess all night long. And then when you weren’t there after surgery—he was so concerned about you, he wouldn’t calm down until he knew where you were and if you were ok. You must know this already, but Harry cares so much for you, Louis he really does.”

_i know he does, i care for him too…_

“I…um…” Louis weakly starts to answer but ends up shaking his head and directing his attention to the screens instead. “Are the scans up?” He asks redundantly instead, already knowing they are ready otherwise he wouldn’t have been paged here to review them in the first place. But he’s not ready to talk about any of this yet. Not the surgery, not how he feels, and especially not Harry.

“Louis.” Niall tries this time, taking a step closer to him, and his voice is still drenched in clear worry, an echo of the same stress from the O.R. ringing through his tone. He’s about to say more, Louis knows he is, he can practically hear the ghosts of his growing concerns wafting in the air between them.

But Zayn gives Niall a short look, subtly giving his head a brief shake before stepping in to address Louis’ previous question. “Yeah, the scans are up.”

They don’t press him any further, biting their tongues and turning their attention to the panel of high-resolution screens displaying the SSMC logo on them. Tentatively Louis logs into the main computer with his ID, already feeling increasingly queasy as he selects Avery’s patient file. Louis doesn’t even think he’s breathing at all as he waits for the images to load, finding himself scared of each new moment and each new breath.

It can’t be worse, the size and progression of the growths on her brain can’t be any worse than they were before, not after all he did in surgery. And on a rational level he knows that, but on the irrational level he’s currently functioning at, Louis can’t be certain of anything at all.

And when the brain scans do eventually queue up on the surrounding screens, Louis isn’t sure whether to study them intensely or look away. The room is completely silent, four sets of lungs paused in hopeful anticipation. But seeing the scans won’t change whatever the true reality is, good or bad, improvement or unchanged. It is what it is. So, Louis forces himself to lift his head, forces himself to focus his eyes and study the images before him. But he doesn’t believe what he sees.

“It’s shrinking…” Zayn gasps first, sounding as stupefied as Louis feels as he breaks the silence. “Oh my god…it’s already shrinking.”

And he’s right, the margins of the tumor are notably reduced. Even taking into account the amount of cancerous tissue that Louis surgically removed, the glioma is still visibly smaller than it was projected to be, meaning that the virus is actually doing as hypothesized and targeting the malignant cells. And the most incredible part is that it’s only been a few hours, who knows how it’ll look in a couple of days, let alone months, as her body continues to recover and adjust to treatment.

Louis exhales for the first time in minutes, a heavy, audible rush of air pushed out of his nose and mouth at once. New tears that he couldn’t possible hold back, spill over onto his cheeks as he surrenders whatever is left of himself to a rare feeling of relief. “It’s s-shrinking…” He stutters on a feeble breath, hand held over his mouth in disbelief.

“Yeah…you did it, Lou.” Liam smiles warmly, also sounding emotional as he drapes a comforting arm around Louis’ shoulders.

“She’s…she’s g-going to be ok…” Louis starts to break down and cry; even to his own ears it sounds like a scared question, the words uncertain and still he’s somehow afraid to believe it could possibly be true. He’s staring right at the truth on the screen before him, but...it hardly feels real.

Niall pulls him into a full hug, holding Louis tightly in his arms. “She’s going to be ok.”

With his head hooked over Niall’s shoulder, Louis’ tears fall harder as he stares disbelievingly at the monitors, couldn’t tear his eyes away from it if he tried. If Louis’ entire career as a neurosurgeon or further still, his entire _life_ only ever amounted to this, to this single moment, to saving the life of this one beautiful child, then it would have all been worth it.

At this point, it’s unlikely that Louis will ever be able to pull himself back together, not when everything is causing him to break right down again. He’s a complete mess of tears—tears of heartfelt relief spur from his eyes mixed with the bitter tears of his perpetual torment, saltwater streaming down his face as forceful as a flood.  

“I…I couldn’t—I c-couldn’t lose her a-again...I c-can’t…” Louis chokes out over heavier sobs. It could never be played down to just saving one life or one patient, because Avery Elliot Styles isn’t only a patient or an experimental case study that somehow was a miraculous success, she’s the spark that causes Louis’ broken heart to beat and without her…without her, Louis doesn’t know who he would be anymore. “I can’t, I c-can’t, Niall…”

Niall hugs him even closer, rubbing his palms along his back in slow circles. “I know Lou, I know. She’s ok. You aren’t losing her. It’s all ok now.”

But then why doesn’t he _feel_ ok? Louis still doesn’t feel anywhere near the realm of ok. And he knows he should. After seeing her scans, he should feel so much better, he should feel the weight of the world being lifted off of his tired shoulders. He’s just been told that Avery is not only stable, but already improving—with his own two eyes he’s still staring right at the scans before him and yet…

That unsettled, scattered feeling is still rooted deep down inside him, refusing to set him free. And he’s _tired_ , Louis is so very tired of feeling like this, constantly on edge as though the floor is set to drop from under his feet at any moment yet again.

All three of his best friends are here with him, comforting him. Niall is practically holding him together with how tightly he’s got his arms surrounding Louis’ entire body and Zayn hasn’t stopped hovering over him this whole time, while Liam is ready to do any single thing Louis asks of him in a heartbeat.

They’re all so worried about him, that much is clear. But Louis doesn’t know what to tell them, he doesn’t know what will make it better. He’s at a loss for what he needs, a loss for what he wants, but he knows that whatever it is, he’s not going to find it here.

Louis shakes his head, pulling back from the hug suddenly before he can think too hard about it. “I um—I have to go.”

And they all respond as Louis knew they would, speaking out over each other at the same time.

“What do mean you have to go?” Liam frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Go where?” Zayn furrows his brow together in confusion.

Niall steps closer to him. “Louis, what are you talking about?”

“I j-just um—I need to get out of here.” Louis decides in a rush, swiping at his eyes and heading for the door. Although he doesn’t get more than half a step before running into the human blockade his friends have made in front of him.

“Slow down and let’s talk about this, Louis.” Liam urges. “Something is clearly still bothering you.”

“There’s…there’s nothing to talk about…” Louis mumbles with his head bowed down, refusing to give any further eye contact because it’ll probably get him to start crying again. His eyes are still burning, and he hardly has any fight left in him.

“If you aren’t ready to talk, we understand.” Zayn promises gently. “But tell us how we can help you.”

_i don’t even know how to help myself_

“You’ve already done s-so much.” Louis tries, still talking downward in a distant voice. Whatever this is, whatever unquieted storm is brewing up boldly inside him, twisting and tearing him apart from the inside out, Louis needs to get through it himself, process through it himself. Because it’s not like anyone can do it for him; right now it feels like he’s being held underwater, screaming and crying, but no one can reach him.

“Harry said that—”

Louis shakes his head in desperation, cutting Liam off before he can finish saying anything Louis can’t bear to hear. “No, d-don’t talk about H-Harry—please…”

He’s not doing this, he’s not talking about Harry or the fact that he just left him on top of the fucking roof without so much as a goodbye. He knows that Harry is waiting for an answer from him, an answer Louis doesn’t have right now. It’s more complicated than simply saying that he doesn’t know how he feels, because Louis does know and maybe that is actually part of the problem. 

Niall tries again to get through to him, reaching out him. “Louis—”

Louis hasn’t stopped shaking his head, eyes still burning from the tears he’s already shed. “No—I can’t do this right now—I c-can’t be here anymore...”

“But Avery will be looking for you when she wakes up.” Zayn reminds. “You have to be here for her.”

It’s true, Louis knows it’s true and as much as he wants to see her and be with her, he knows he shouldn’t, knows it could only ever make things worse. “I _can’t_ —just I h-have to go, ok.”

“Louis, you’re running away from this.” Niall states boldly, taking the no bullshit, honest approach that Louis normally appreciates. The thing is, Louis also isn’t normally a runner. He isn’t normally the type to drop everything in an attempt to escape, it’s not him. They know it and he knows it.

The key word being _normally_ , and this is not nearly a normal situation. But right now, he just needs a breather. He needs some space. He can hardly stand his own thoughts and nearly everything around him triggers him in some horrible way. Louis just needs to get away for a bit. Think things through as best he can until maybe something will start to make sense.

“No, I’m not…I’m—I just need space...” Louis tries to defend himself, tries to help them understand the confusion he barely understands himself. “To think and…and to process and…I d-don’t know—but I can’t be here. I j-just can’t…”

“At least tell us where you’re going.” Liam asks, weary eyes searching Louis’ face.

Where can he even go when everything in his path is a continual reminder. Everything is too familiar, holding a memory, sparking recollections. And that’s when Louis remembers it, weeks ago when his only focus was on figuring out a way to treat Avery, he got an invitation to give a lecture at a conference in Portland. Usually Louis couldn’t give two shits about those pretentious conferences, seeing them as pointless platforms for surgeons and doctors to bask in prestige and gloat about achievements that were most likely stolen and rebranded from someone else who came before them. It’s hardly ever about the actual medicine. But they were all fun and games when he was first starting out in his career, the perfect place for a bit of quick-witted, alcohol induced banter and an easy hook-up. Not that that is what he wants now, but Louis does want to get away from here.

“The Medical Advancements in Neurology Conference in Portland.” Louis decides in that very moment. “That’s where I’m going.”

“Louis, they don’t need you at that stupid conference, and you hate those things.” Zayn reminds, pulling a face. “And we were just talking the other day and you said you weren’t going because of Avery’s surgery.”

He gets invitations to conferences like this around the world every month, but hardly ever attends any of them anymore, partly because he’s uninterested, but mainly because he never actually has the time in his schedule for it. But he certainly has the time now and he’s going. It’s not too far away and it’s the perfect work-related excuse to get the fuck away from Seattle. Maybe the change of scenery will start to clear his head and bring him the sense of direction he urgently needs.

Louis shrugs a bit, not answering Zayn directly as he starts moving towards the doorway once more. “Yeah…well…I changed my mind I guess…”

And there’s absolutely nothing his friends can say or do that will change it back.

 

||✚||

 

Harry doesn’t leave the rooftop of the hospital right away. He instead stays to watch the sun completely rise, finding it so soothing. The many warm colors swirled exquisitely across soft cotton candy clouds. It’s majestic and surreal and it allows Harry a moment to pause and collect his thoughts.

Eventually Harry makes his way down to Avery’s ICU room, finding her still under the effects of sedation as he knew she would be. He sits down at her side, content to just study her face as he holds her hand. No matter how often he sees it, Harry will never get used to seeing his daughter with all the tubes and wires hooked up to every possible place. He can’t wait for the day when she hopefully doesn’t need a single one of them anymore. The day where she can finally go back to the normal life of a kid. And thanks to Louis that day actually has a chance of coming sooner rather than later.

Harry’s thoughts continue to be with Louis, unable to stop worrying about him for more than a few seconds at a time. In his mind he keeps replaying their short time together on the roof, still coming up short for what it all may mean. The man that he held in his arms on the roof is going through so much, far too much for him to even speak on. Harry can see it storming through Louis’ sapphire eyes and it pains him so much, more than Harry thought imaginable. He wants to take that pain away from him, he doesn’t want to see Louis hurt anymore, but Harry doesn’t know what he can do. Louis needs time, Harry understands that, of course he does, but the waiting and worrying in between just might kill him.

But the sound of sputtering coughs, snaps Harry’s attention back to the present instantly. He looks to Avery’s still body to find that she’s making horribly strangled sounds that don’t at all sound natural, growing louder and more congested. Harry doesn’t know what else he can do but get help. He doesn’t think any more about it, up and sprinting out to the nurses’ station in no time flat, already shouting to get someone’s attention.

“I think she’s choking!” Harry yells urgently. “S-She’s making a…a coughing sound and it doesn’t sound right…”

Dr. Wesley and several nurses drop what they are doing in an instant and rush right into the patient room. Harry follows after them, but gives them the space they need to work.

“No, she’s fighting intubation.” Dr. Wesley determines after quickly assessing her. “She's breathing on her own, it’s a good thing.”

And sure enough, as soon as all the tubes are removed from her airways, the strangulated sounds stop, and her vital stats return to level and stabilize once again.

Harry deflates in every sense of the word, feeling his own breathing return to normal as well. It’s hard not to raise hell and panic over every last thing, especially when he’s been conditioned to expect the very worst, and it’s probably going to take a while before he no longer thinks that way. “Does that mean she’s going to wake up soon?”

“Any time now.” Dr. Wesley smiles reassuringly at him. “Let’s page Dr. Tomlinson.” She instructs the nurses as they file out of the room.

Harry sits back down in the chair near her bed once again, taking her small hand in his, thumbing over her palm. He knows all the signs up to this point have been good, but still Harry can’t allow himself to get too excited too soon, he can’t allow himself to relax.

_she’s ok now, she’s ok_

He lifts her hand to his lips, kissing it gently before moving her hand to his cheek, holding it there and focusing on the warmth of it. There’s reassurance in the warmth, comfort in the thrum of a healthy pulse under her smooth skin. Harry allows his eyes to slowly fall closed, lulled into a tranquil state as he ruminates on the assuring presence of vivacity radiating from her very veins.

And when her small fingers begin curl around his cheek on their own accord, Harry lets out an audibly shaky breath. Slowly, he lifts his head, opening his eyes to meet the flickered blinking of a golden hazel gaze peering back into his teary green one.

“I f-fought…” Avery whispers weakly, head tilted towards Harry even though her eyes are barely open. “I fought…r-really hard for you, D-Daddy…”

Harry can only look to her in utter awe, eyes shining as his heart lodges itself in his throat. He doesn’t have the words and even if he had them, there’s no way he could get them out properly. It’s one thing to be told that she’s going to be ok, to hear that and try to believe it, but it’s something else entirely to see it. To see her eyes begin to open on their own, to hear whispers of her young voice, to feel the faint touch of her small fingertips. And it begins to hit him in every possible way, that she really survived the impossible. At the age of nine, his daughter has already been through hell and back, and what’s even more amazing, she did it all with a beautiful smile on her face.

Overcome with emotion and without words, Harry hugs his daughter near, holding her close to his heart and his chest with his face buried down against her as even more relieved tears spill down his cheeks. It’s a moment he couldn’t guarantee would ever come twenty-four hours ago, a moment that was so hard to foresee twenty-four days ago, but also a moment Harry wouldn’t trade for the world.

“Don’t c-cry, Daddy...”  Avery murmurs against him, quiet voice raspy and slowed. “Please don’t cry…I’m still h-here…it’s ok. You don’t h-have to cry anymore….”

Avery pulls back just to smile at him, a dreadfully tired but so very beautiful dimpled smile. And Harry has never been so happy to see that signature smile spread across her face. Even though her strength is still low, she reaches up to gently rub her small fingers across his damp cheeks, only to wipe his tears away. “No goodbyes.”

Harry rests his hand over hers, leaning in to softly press his lips to her forehead as he always hoped he’d be able to again. And through a hushed whisper, Harry finds a trace of his voice again.

“No goodbyes.”

 

||✚||

 

Avery doesn’t stay completely conscious for long, dozing in and out over the next couple of hours. After the heavy strain of the surgery to her weakened body, it’s understandable why she’s so exhausted.

The nurses give Harry permission to lay down on the hospital bed next to her, holding her sleeping figure close to his chest as he’s done so many countless times before. Harry finds himself drifting off too, drained by the endless stress of his sleepless night in the waiting room. He figures they’ll probably have awhile to sleep before Louis checks in on Avery’s progress and vitals.

But to Harry’s surprise, it’s not Louis who comes by to do Avery’s official post-op exam, but Niall once again.

“Is that little Miss Avery I see?” Niall gasps exaggeratedly with a wide beaming smile on his face as he walks into the room, charting tablet in hand.

Avery sleepily smiles back at him, offering a slight wave of her fingers. “It’s…me...”

“I’m so happy to see you awake.” Niall enthuses genuinely as he walks deeper into the hospital room. He does a quick survey of the monitors, checking over her IV drip and making a few notes on his tablet. “So how are you feeling, Avery? Do you feel any pain?”

“Um...I’m alright…I think…” Avery answers in raspy breaths as she groggily rubs at her eyes with the back of her hand. She tries to sit up a bit against Harry, but her movements are slow and sluggish. “Nothing hurts... ‘m just tired...really, really tired…”

“But that’s normal, right?” Harry wonders in concern. “For her to be so exhausted, I mean.”

“Yes, that’s totally normal. I’d be more worried if she wasn’t tired.” Niall replies easily with a calm reassuring smile. “After a surgery as long and taxing as that, we can expect her to be at a very low energy state for the next couple of days as her body recuperates. And the pain medication she’s currently on only adds to the drowsiness, but that’s nothing to worry about. If all continues to go well, she’ll be back to her sassy, giggly self in no time.”

Harry looks down at Avery and smiles, hugging her closer. He can hardly believe that after so many ups and downs, the worst is finally coming to a close and they can begin to put all this behind them.

Niall returns his attention down to Avery directly, bending down a little to her eye level. “Alright kiddo, so I need to check out a few things to make sure you’re healing properly, but I promise I won’t bother you for too long so you can go right back to sleep with your dad, ok?”

Avery nods her head. “Ok.”

“Good. Can you sit up a little bit more for me?” Niall asks, starting his exam by checking under the bandages wrapped around her head, making sure the incision sites and sutures are free of any early signs of infection. He checks her respiration rate and breath signs with his stethoscope, listening for any cardiopulmonary irregularities. He then reaches to take both of her small hands in his. “Can you give my hands a squeeze? Just as hard as you can.”

“Avery, you’re too strong, my goodness.” Niall teases, shaking out his hands as though she’s done some actual damage with her tiny grip.

She laughs a little and Niall moves on to check the responsivity of her legs next. “Can you give your toes a little wiggle for me? Does anything feel tingly or numb?”

Avery shakes her head and when Niall begins to tickle the soles of her feet, she giggles even more than before.

“Can you feel that Avery? I’m not sure if you can _really_ feel it.” Niall jokes, getting her to smile.

“I can!” Avery continues to giggle.

“Oh, well that’s such a relief.” Niall grins, pulling a slim white exam light from his lab pocket. “Ok, now I need you to follow the light with your eyes.” He instructs, turning the beam on. “That’s perfect, Avery. Just like that.”

“Dr. Horan?” Avery questions quietly, eyes focusing back and forth as Niall conducts the exam. “Where is Louis? Why isn’t he here too?”

Harry looks to him as well, having not seen Louis since he dashed off to answer a page from the rooftop. It’s odd that he’s not here; completely out of character for him, especially since he never misses a thing when it comes to Avery.

“He’s…um…” Niall pauses, mewing over his words as he tucks the pocket light back in his coat pocket. He shares a look with Harry and it’s all Harry needs to know that something definitely isn’t right. “Well Avery, there’s this conference…in Portland for big, important brain doctors like Louis…and he had to attend and give a lecture last minute. It’s um…important…”

“Oh…” Avery hangs her head in disappointment, seeming sad.

“But he’ll be back.” Niall pipes up cheerfully, picking up his tone. “He really wanted to be here when you woke up. And he told me to tell you that he is so sooo sorry that he isn’t here, and that he can’t wait to see that great, big, beautiful smile of yours when he gets back.”

Avery nods her bowed head slowly, but without any real enthusiasm.

“He’ll be back, Munch.” Harrys whispers reassuringly against her temple, not wanting her to get too upset, especially when all she needs to focus on is resting up and giving her body a chance to heal. “Don’t worry, ok?”

“But on the brightside, I’m sure he’ll be really happy to know that you are making an incredible recovery so far.” Niall smiles, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “You aren’t showing any major deficits and your latest scans continue to show improvement.”

“Avery, that’s amazing, honey.” Harry hugs her close once again, snuggling his head down by her cheek. It would usually get her to at least smile, but she’s disappointed and she’s never been one to be able to hide her emotions very well. It’s as clear as day that she’s sad to be without Louis. He has been here with her every single step of the way, encouraging her and giving her hope and for him to not be here only further proves how hard this really was for him.

“So Avery you’ll let me know if anything feels funny, ok? And you can always ask for me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

“Ok.” Avery answers quietly.

“Alright Avery, I want you to keep resting, ok?” Niall advises her. “I’ll be back to hang out and check on you later on and Dr. Wesley will be monitoring all your vitals.”

Niall offers a farewell wave before exiting the hospital room, but there are some things Harry wants to ask him without further involving Avery, she’s upset enough as it is.

“I’ll be right back, Aviebug.” Harry tells his daughter, pecking her cheek before sliding off the bed and leaving the room to catch Niall before he gets too far away.

“Niall.” Harry calls, voice carrying down the hall.

Niall pauses and looks over his shoulder, turning around completely when he sees it’s Harry calling him, seeming to be expecting him. “Hey, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to upset Avery, I didn’t know what to tell her…”

Harry shakes his head with understanding. “There wasn’t anything you could have possibly done about that…I knew she was going to ask for him.”

“Poor little thing. She’s so attached to him, I felt like I was breaking her heart.”

Harry nods sadly, knowing just how special the beautiful bond between Avery and Louis is, transcending every bound. “Is he really at a conference?”

“I don’t even know….” Niall sighs heavily as a worried cloud of pure exhaustion waves right over his features. “That’s what he said but…”

“But what?”

Niall runs his fingers through his hair as he exhales at a loss. “You were right…he’s not ok.”

Even though it’s not new information, it causes Harry’s stomach to churn with uneasiness. “What did he say?”

“He didn’t say anything, that’s the problem. He avoided everything and then he started talking about how he needs to think and get away…but he was so frazzled—he’s so overwhelmed.” Niall worries, shaking his head. “You can see it on his face, but he won’t talk about it—about any of it. I’ve never seen him like this before, Harry. I don’t know where he’s going, but I know I should have tried harder to stop him from leaving.”

“It’s not your fault.” Harry sighs, feeling so incredibly heavy and weighted down.

Niall seems to take note, placing a reassuring hand on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s not yours either, Harry. I know it probably feels that way, but please don’t blame yourself. Louis wouldn’t want that.”

Harry looks down at the ground, not meeting Niall’s eyes. “I know…but…”

“You’re hurting knowing that he’s hurting, and you feel like there’s nothing you can do to help him, I know. But it’s still not your fault, ok?” Niall repeats, bolder this time in hopes that Harry will accept it. “It’s not.”

Niall’s pager begins to sound from his lab coat, but he doesn’t even check it, seeming to already know what it’s about. “I’ve got a surgery to prep for, but I’ll come find you later, alright? Hang in there, Harry.” He gives Harry a reassuring hug before he leaves, rubbing his back. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

Harry stays back in the hallway for a little while longer, attempting to settle his racing mind down to a manageable state before going back to be with his daughter. Lord knows that girl can read his every emotion like the pages of an open book, and he’d really rather not bring her any more stress right now.

The only thing Harry can think to do is call Louis. Just once, just so that he knows Harry’s thoughts are always with him. Louis could literally be going _anywhere_ and while it’s unsettling to be so left in the dark, Harry understands that Louis needs space to think and process his emotions, that’s only fair. Louis has been on a tireless roller-coaster with no end for months, facing things he hasn’t dealt with in years, and Harry can only imagine the stress Louis must be under. And however Louis needs to be supported, whether near or far, that’s exactly what Harry is committed to do.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=207X6DTY4LY&index=3&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtl_5WFZR5Jw4wRWtG-W_MD)

The phone rings for a while, but ends up going to voicemail, not that Harry is at all surprised by that.

“Louis…hi…it’s…it’s me.” Harry starts slowly, unsure of himself. He takes in a deep breath, leaning his head against the wall of the hallway as he closes his eyes, trying to think of what to say, of what Louis might need to hear right now, wherever he may be. “Lou, I can’t imagine what’s going through your head right now, but I…”

_i need to hear your voice_

Harry exhales achingly, holding the phone closer to his ear as though Louis is actually connected to it. “I’m worried about you…” He admits quietly, hating how fucking useless he feels, how far away. All he wants is to be there for Louis, care for him and make him feel safe again, but how can he from over the phone? What could Harry possibly say that could make any sort of difference. “I’m worried but I…I know that you need time to process everything in your own way—I get that…I really do and I want you to have that time but I…”

_i need to know if you’re ok_

“I just want you to know that you’re not alone.” Harry reminds, meaning it wholeheartedly and knowing it’s what Louis needs to hear. “It might feel that way—it’s always been that way for you since you were just a kid but…you are never alone…I’m here for you—I’ll always be here for you when you need me, Louis. I know it’s hard right now to focus your thoughts and you probably feel so lost and displaced within yourself and the last thing I want to do is overwhelm you…but…I want you to remember that you are so much stronger than you think you are, Louis. You’re strong and you’re brave and no matter what you face, that will never change.”

_i believe in you_

“Please be safe, Lou…” Harry whispers into the receiver, clutching the phone far too tightly, wishing Louis was right there waiting on the other end of the line. But no matter how he wishes, nothing but haunting silence echoes back to him.

_come back to me_

“I’ll be here when you’re ready. Always.” Harry promises from every part of his heart, eyes remaining closed. He doesn’t want to hang up, doesn’t want to cut the connection to him. “…Bye…”

_i love you…_

 

||☤||

 

 

By the time Louis gets to his house, he doesn’t know what he wants to do anymore. He only planned to stop so that he could change his clothes, pack a bag and fill his dog’s bowl up with more than enough food for the next few days.

He was determined to leave, mind completely made up, seeing his escape as the only way to chase after his dwindling sense of clarity. But on the rather short drive from SSMC to his home, Louis received a text from Niall telling him that Avery is awake and asking for him and Louis swears to god that he almost turns the car around right then to rush back to the hospital to be with her.

But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not until he figures some things out. And it’s so horribly confusing because he doesn’t even know what things he needs figured out, all he knows is that his thoughts have been perpetually suspended in a freefall and he needs it to stop before he loses his mind completely. And the only way he sees to do that is to leave, to run where no one else will follow so that he can begin to find a calm from all the wreckage.

Benedict meets him right at the doorway, as eager and excited as ever—maybe even more so because Louis has been at the hospital for so long. Louis can admit that seeing his goofy dog unable to stop bouncing up and down while wagging his tail does put a small smile on his face.

Louis kneels down to greet him properly, both hands cupped around his fluffy neck. “Hey Benny Boy. What have you been up to without me, huh?”

Benedict’s fur smells just like fresh cut grass, probably because he insists on running through the back doggie-door to the backyard to roll around in the grass for hours on end. He does it every day religiously and Louis will most likely never understand why, but if it makes him happy, that’s all that really matters.

Louis takes time to scratch behind Benedict’s ears and rub his furry tummy just as he likes, giving him some much needed love and attention. Then he walks him over to the kitchen and gives him far too many treats than are necessary. But he’s such a good boy and Louis loves to spoil his oversized puppy.

After finishing his treats, Benedict begins following Louis around the house as Louis goes about throwing different things into his compact sized suitcase. Benny despises any and all forms of luggage and Louis has gone through several sets all because his dog took it upon himself as his own personal mission to chew and destroy them. In his precious canine brain, a suitcase equals him being left behind and he can’t stand for it.

Benedict barks at Louis a few times disapprovingly as Louis throws a toiletry bag into the suitcase.

“Benny, what happened to being my good boy?” Louis questions his dog, stooping down a little to talk to him face to face. “I gave you, like, six treats only for you to bark at me like that? Don’t be rude, I raised you better, B.”  

Benedict pouts, but sits down quietly at Louis’ feet, watching him intently.

“Good lad.” Louis ruffles the fluffed fur on top of his head, before getting back to his suitcase.

Louis packs a full suit and a matching tie on the off chance that he actually does go to the conference and speak. He’s not one hundred percent set on that anymore, at least on the speaking part of it. After all, he doesn’t even have any kind of formal presentation prepared or even a general topic, but Louis doesn’t give a fuck about any of that right now because his only focus is getting as far away from here as possible.

Benedict continues trailing Louis wherever he goes, from his closet to the master bathroom to the kitchen to the hall closet, back up the stairs to his bedroom. At some point on the tour around the house, Benedict picks up his leash in his mouth, offering it to Louis as though he forgot to pack it himself.

“That for me?” Louis wonders, pausing to look down at his dog.

Benedict nudges Louis’ hand with his wet nose until Louis is nearly forced to take the leash from his mouth.

“We aren’t going for a run right now, Bud.” Louis sets the leash down and gives Benny’s head another quick pet before returning to his closet. Louis quickly changes into comfy joggers and a fresh oversized hoodie, forcing himself to finally take Harry’s off, even though he doesn’t want to. The one he puts on doesn’t feel as warm and soft as Harry’s, but he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on it, instead moving on to pull a baseball cap down over his fringe. When he’s done changing clothes, he finds Benedict with the leash back in his mouth again, looking to Louis’ expectantly.

“Benny, I can’t. I have to go.” Louis tries to explain, sitting down on the edge of his bed to zip up his suitcase.

Benedicts lets out a little whimper, sounding so pitiful. He makes it even worse when he puts his head down on Louis’ lap and gives him those sad puppy eyes.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Louis pleads, already feeling guilty. “I’m not leaving you forever. It’s just like if I was going to work. I’ll be back in a day or two.”

Benedict doesn’t seem to like that at all, and he starts whining miserably, growing louder by the second. And Louis hates the sound of it, reminding him of the night Harry left and Benedict cried for him all night long no matter what Louis did.

“Ok, ok Benny, calm down, boy. You wanna come with me?” Louis wonders, which only makes Benedict lose his shit with excitement, running in circles and jumping up and down to lick Louis’ face. Dogs are funny that way, direly depressed one moment and ecstatic the next. Honestly, Louis wishes he could have that kind of quick turnaround with his own emotions.

“Alright then, come on, you big baby.” Louis clicks the leash to his harness, grabbing his suitcase on the way out of his bedroom. He collects a few more necessary items for Benny before making his way out of the house with his pup happily in tow.

Maybe Louis shouldn’t be completely alone on this trip anyway, and Benedict’s weird and amusing self is one of his favorite forms of company. Although, he has no earthly idea what he’s going to do with his dog if he does indeed attend the conference, but just like everything else, he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it.

He opens the door to the backseat of his Rover for Benedict to hop in, but by the time Louis settles into the driver’s seat, Benedict has climbed over the center console to sit in the passenger seat right next to him, wagging tail and all.

“Proud of yourself, are you?” Louis grins a bit, rolling his eyes fondly at his silly dog. He reaches over to pet the soft fur behind his ears once more. “Well, Benedict, my old friend, it’s just you and me.”

Out of habit, Louis checks his phone before starting the car and finds a missed call and voicemail from Harry. He hesitates to click on it; after all the last time he had a voicemail from Harry, he couldn’t get it out of his head for months. But that was then, and this is now. Whatever the fuck that means anyway. Frankly, Louis is just as fucked up now as he was back then, if not more so.

Louis push-starts the car, selecting the route to Portland on his navigation system and deciding to get on the road before listening to whatever is on that message. But curiosity gets the best of him, as it usually does, and after only a few miles of driving, Louis hits play on the recording.

Benedict’s ears perk up at the sound of Harry’s voice filling the space of the car, seeming to recognize it right away. He whines at first, in a longing sort of way, but then Harry’s voice seems to slowly pacify him.

It’s something Louis can really identify with because as he listens to Harry’s words, listens to the eased drawl of his deep voice, Louis can’t help but want to play the voicemail on a loop, cherishing how calm he feels as the sound washes over him. There’s so much care laced into his tone, his words are thoughtful, earnestly placed in the sweetest of ways and soon Louis becomes certain that nothing could ever save him like the welcomed sound of Harry’s voice, seeming to always cut out all of the static noise and confusion buzzing around inside his head. It’s not just how Harry said it, but what he said that made Louis want to wrap himself up in it like a warm blanket. And he knows that he could call Harry back right now and drown himself in all the subtle comfort his voice naturally carries.  

But he’s not going to do that, he _can’t_ do that, and the stupidest part is that he doesn’t even know how to justify why. Maybe he’s punishing himself. Maybe he’s afraid—maybe it goes even deeper than simply being afraid of what comes next. Louis still doesn’t have an answer to spare himself, but he’s going to drive until maybe he does.

Driving has always given Louis an odd comfort, a way to constructively channel his drifting thoughts. There’s just something about hitting the open road, unrushed, unhurried, letting the cool breeze flow through his rolled down windows. Solutions are born on the road, problems are solved, crises averted. But as Louis drives with the sun setting on the horizon, his thoughts are only intensified without solution.   

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g8utlmQgANY&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtl_5WFZR5Jw4wRWtG-W_MD&index=4)

Louis is waging war on his own sanity, fighting with himself one minute then hiding from himself in the next and it is a total mind fuck. He keeps going back and forth against logic, forth and back against his emotions, replaying every last thing in his head on a loop until he’s somehow even more confused.

_what am i doing…_

He’s driving a bit restless, concentration zoning in and out as his scattered thoughts cloud his judgment. Honestly, he probably shouldn’t even be driving at all with the little sleep he’s running on. His brow starts to prickle with sweat and there’s a pulsing behind his temple growing stronger with each jumbled thought and every loud minute. His heart is steadily picking up its rhythm, echoing in his ears as brassy as a drum.

_what do i want to do…_

All the things that have happened—the fleeting highs and never-ending lows of the past decade crash through the forefront of Louis’ mind unremittingly in no tangible order. Each static memory like a pristine glass mosaic, stained with splendid color and irreplaceable beauty until suddenly splintering into dull broken shards shattered on the cold, hard ground. Shrill and sharp everything clashes together, whether good or bad it clatters and bangs, pounding louder and louder in his head. And he just wants the answer to jump out at him, scare him, make him scream. At least that way he’d know in certainty what he should do.

It’s deafening how intense each of his memories are, as earsplittingly sharp as the day they were created. He can’t forget, always a linger or a trace to remind him of what was, what could have been, what never came. Louis can still hear conversations of times long passed, still remember feelings tied to recollections that refuse to fade.

 _Fuck_ , he loved Harry, he really loved him and he put so much of himself into it once, he put everything he had—everything he didn’t have, into loving him as best he could and it didn’t even matter in the end because Harry still left. Everyone _leaves_. Not always by choice, but they do. Things happen, _death_ happens. It can’t always be stopped, it’s not always under Louis’ control whether someone stays or leaves.

And Louis can honestly say that in his heart of hearts he has forgiven Harry for all of it, for leaving, for breaking his heart, for everything. Yes, Louis can say in confidence that he holds nothing against Harry anymore, but in every sense, he is still terrified of life repeating itself in the cruelest of ways.

Life happens, things get hard, people get sick, loved ones die and leave—Louis has seen it. Lived it. Felt the long-term effects of it repeatedly flooding his life. What’s to say that any of those things won’t happen again, what’s to say things won’t get hard time and time again? Because things _always_ get hard, it’s practically a guarantee of life, it’d be foolish to think otherwise. And when things do inevitably fall to shit, what’s to say that the same fucking thing won’t happen, and he’ll be left all alone once again? Louis wouldn’t survive that. His career wouldn’t, his life wouldn’t, _he_ wouldn’t.

He already isn’t.

Still Louis is continually overwhelmed by all that he continues to feel for Harry, needing his love at every possible turn. He feels it when his heart beats, each and every single time his heart beats in his trembling chest, swift and strident. He feels it coursing through his juddering veins like fire—burning, singeing its way through his bloodstream while he’s left fanning the flames.

But is it enough?

Is it enough just to love him so intensely, to care for him more than life itself, to _need_ him as much and as desperately as Louis does? Can a love like theirs, as long-suffering and passionate and beautiful as it has grown to be, mend the scars of the past that refuse to heal and begin to unravel all the years of trauma they’ve both learned to live with?

Louis grips the steering wheel even tighter, pressing his foot down heavier on the gas and feeling the engine rev up under his fingertips. And it snaps him out of it for a second, drawing his focus back to the open road before him.

“Ugh, what kind of short cut is this, Siri?” Louis grumbles uselessly to his phone as he gradually navigates his car along a very narrow, dim-lit road. Thirty minutes back, he’d absentmindedly opted to accept Siri’s seemingly helpful suggestion of an alternate route to save time, but it turns out the suggestion is anything but helpful. The alternate route has taken him off of the main highway in favor of some random roundabout country road twisting through the woods. There’s not another car in sight, just miles of winding roads lined by thick wooded trees and no street lighting to guide him along the dark path. Even with his high beams on, it’s nearly impossible to discern what is supposed to be the road.

And even better, it’s raining.

“There has to be a different way to get there. This is fucking ridiculous.” Louis huffs irritably as he reaches towards the navigation screen mounted on his dashboard, connected wirelessly to his phone.

And Louis only becomes more irritated when Siri’s voice comes over the sound system saying, “ _Wireless connection lost_.”

“Oh, well that’s just perfect, isn’t it?” Louis sighs heavily to himself as he drives further into darkness. Maybe coming out here was a mistake, maybe he should just turn around and attempt to head back to Seattle. After all, it’s not like Louis has any idea what he’s even doing anyway and he sure as hell hasn’t made any revelations, if anything he’s only made things worse for himself.

He fiddles around with the touchscreen, slightly diverting his attention from the twisting path before him in order to try the navigation system one last time.

But as he clicks around on the screen, Benny begins barking urgently, which isn’t something that’s usual for him. Louis adjusts his gaze marginally, about to address the dog when something on the road catches his attention out of the far corner of his eye.

“Oh fuck!” Louis swerves his Range Rover out of the way just in time to avoid colliding with an already wrecked car stranded in the middle of the road. It’s all a blur as the wheels spin and screech loudly, tire rubber burning against the slippery asphalt, the weight of the vehicle nearly giving way from the abruptness of the sharp turn. But somehow the car remains upright and comes to a jolted stop along the far edge of the road.

Louis sits in shocked stillness, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that both of his hands are lacking any color, pale as a ghost. His breathing is ragged, chest uncontrollably heaving in and out, eyes wide as the rush of an adrenaline spike pumps through his body over the realized concept that he just narrowly escaped a car accident.

“Oh my god…” Louis breathes out after a few dazed moments of quiet. He turns towards Benny, still sat in the passenger seat. “You ok, Ben?”

His poor dog is clearly stressed, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pants. But he seems to give Louis a look that throws the same question right back at him, nudging his head towards Louis in concern.

“I’m ok…” Louis whispers both as a reminder to himself and to Benny.

But it’s only after Louis frantically pats himself down that he truly comes to realize that he is actually ok. Although his skyrocketing heart rate would claim otherwise. He reaches over to stroke the top of Benedict’s head down to his back to try and reassure him back to calm, but petting his dog seems to not only calm Benny down but also himself. Louis can’t believe that it all happened so fast—actually, he’s confused as to what even happened or why there is a car in the middle of the street in the first place.

“Stay, ok?” Louis commands his dog, who plants himself down on the passenger seat. “Good boy.”

Once his heart rate his nearly returned to the realm of somewhat normal, Louis flicks on his hazard lights and slips his hood over his hat before hopping out of his car to investigate the other completely totaled vehicle in the middle of the road. From the looks of things, it seems as though something had caused the driver to lose control of the car and swerve so suddenly that it flipped over onto its side. Almost like what had just happened to him moments ago. Except there is no indication of what initially caused the accident to occur.

As Louis inches closer, he hears the muffled sound of pained groaning coming from the general vicinity of the wreckage. He quickens his pace, moving with caution towards the massively crushed SUV.

“Hello…?” Louis cautiously calls out over the rain, following the sound of the groans. There’s broken glass scattered along the concrete, debris everywhere along with fragments of metal. “Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?” 

There’s a ruffle of varied noises followed by a distant, yet quiet voice echoing through the shower of water. The sound is heavily muffled and low, but Louis knows that he hears the distinct calling of help.

That’s all it takes for Louis to push aside everything going through his mind and immediately rush over to the far side of the wreck where the driver’s side would be. As the car is lain out on its side, Louis uses the tire to propel himself up and on top of the SUV. It’s slippery and unsteady from the falling rain, but slowly Louis crawls along the body of the car towards the front window, thankful for the trainers he decided to wear. The driver door isn’t completely smashed in and when Louis pulls on the handle it still opens with a creak, revealing a moderately conscious woman trapped on her side in the driver’s seat.

She looks absolutely terrified, most likely still in shock from the accident, but she’s conscious and breathing. He quickly assesses what he can see of her injuries. She’s got lacerations all over her arms of varying severity, and a gash on her temple leaving blood trickling down the side of her face and more importantly, she’s pregnant—very, _very_ pregnant. At least thirty-five or so weeks, Louis would say if he had to guess.

When she first sees him, she starts to cry hysterically, the shock morphing right into panic with glimpses of overwhelmed relief at the sight of another person. She couldn’t have been out here for too long, but it’s still traumatic to be trapped in a damaged car, no matter the length of time.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s alright.” Louis tries, speaking calmly but loud enough to be heard over her panicked sobs and the falling rain. “I’m here to help you. What’s your name?”

It takes her a couple of moments to calm herself down enough to speak. “F-Frankie…” She stutters with wide, panicked eyes. The distinct forest green of her irises startles Louis with how scarily familiar they seem, as though little reminders never fail to follow him no matter where he goes or how hard he tries to focus on something else.

“Frankie.” Louis repeats gently, holding her gaze as though mesmerized by it. “Hi Frankie, I’m Louis.”

Frankie’s emerald eyes are locked onto him, seeming to focus all her attention on him instead of the current situation around her in order to remain calm. “L-Louis…”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Louis nods gently, taking her closest hand in his to continue to soothe her. He takes note of her pulse, feeling it start to gradually settle as he talks to her. “Frankie, can you tell me what happened?”

And simply asking her that seems to set her off again, spurring fresh tears from her eyes as she blubbers unintelligibly. It’s understandable how emotional she is, she’s just been in an accident, she’s scared and also pregnant. Louis wants to help, but he doesn’t want to risk moving her before he has somewhat of an idea what kind of injuries she sustained. And while he isn’t a trauma surgeon, Louis handles traumas like these on nearly a daily basis while covering the emergency room.

“Frankie, hey listen to me, ok? I’m a doctor and I’m going to help you. It’s going to be ok.” Louis keeps his voice calm and his tone gentle but reassuring just as he would if they were in a hospital. “But I really need you to answer a couple questions for me…Can you do that? Please, Frankie, it’s very important that you do.”

Frankie continues to cry hysterically, but she manages to sort of nod her head and Louis can tell that she is really trying to calm herself down, but the shock and dwindling adrenaline won’t let her. So, Louis holds her one hand with both of his own, trying to reassure her as best he can from the uncomfortable position they’re in.

“Frankie, are you all by yourself, love? Is anyone else in the car?” Louis asks next, maintaining eye contact with her. He didn’t see any signs of another passenger, but he needs to have a definitive answer of how many variables are at play so that he can determine what his next move should be.

She gradually shakes her head a few times. “N-no it’s…it’s just m-me…”

“Ok.” Louis nods, still holding her closest hand tightly. “And can you tell me how far along you are?”

Frankie begins to sob even harder than before, so much so that Louis has to really focus to understand all that she’s saying. “I’m…I-I’m thirty-six w-weeks a-and I—I don’t know…I was having a…a w-weird p-pain earlier and something felt w-wrong with the b-baby and a-and I’m a-all alone at h-home…so I was going to the h-hospital—I thought I could d-drive bu—but the rain m-made it so h-hard…and the p-pain and I j-just I—” Her tears overcome her as she completely breaks down, and Louis hardly knows a thing about her, but his heart immediately goes out to her. “I—I can’t l-lose this baby—I c-can’t…it’s all I—all I h-have left of him…”

“Left of who?”

“David, my…my h-husband—he…he d-died a few months a-ago and I’m...I’m just…I’m all alone and I c-can’t…” Frankie hyperventilates, trembling terribly. It’s clearly a pain she’s still finding the strength to process, the gaping wound of losing her spouse still fresh on her broken heart, only heightened by the presence of pregnancy hormones.

Louis wishes he could wrap her up into a hug, but all he can do is hold her hand. He feels the losses of others on a personal level, feels it in a special place in his heart and the last thing Louis is going to allow is for Frankie to feel the loss of another person. Not if he has anything to say about it. “Ok, ok, Frankie it’s alright, everything is going to be fine. I need you to stay calm, ok? Deep breaths for me, yeah.” Louis tries, giving her fingers a squeeze. “In through your nose and out through your mouth. Just breathe with me, in and out, ok? In and out, one breath at a time.”

She breathes deeply along with him just as he instructed, wide eyes watching him closely as she holds onto his hand. And after a few rounds, it starts to marginally calm her down.

“Good Frankie, that’s so good.” Louis praises while further assessing her injuries. The deep gash to her head looks the most pressing; a laceration that prominent could also be a concussion. He needs to figure out a way to move her without further harming her. “Frankie, do you feel any sharp pain anywhere?

“N-No…it’s not sharp really, b-but my head hurts…”

“Hurts like how? Describe it for me as best you can.”

She furrows her brow together in thought. “Um…it’s l-like a strong pressure…it’s pulsing kind of?”

“Ok.” Louis nods, thinking to himself and further suspecting her of suffering a concussion, if not a cerebral contusion. All he can hope for is that the injury doesn’t drastically diminish her level of consciousness and she can stay lucid until they can get to a hospital. “Can you move your arms and legs? Are there any tingling sensations?”

Frankie shakes her head and from the looks of things it appears that she still has mobility and range of motion intact, which are all positive signs. But Louis knows all too well that when it comes to neurotraumas, the brain can be completely unpredictable and things can change in an instant, so it’s best to always be cautious.

He already knows that there’s no service out here and the street, if it can even be called a street, is so dark that it’s not safe for them to stay here in the middle of the road. They would be practically asking for trouble. Louis almost hit her turning the dim-lit corner, and with the rain and limited visibility, it’s only a matter of time before someone else does the same. They’re best bet is to try to get to a civilized area to call for help or better yet, a hospital.

“Ok Frankie, we have to get you out of here, it’s not safe. I’m going to help lift you out of the car.” Louis double checks that she’s free from any buckles or protruding pieces of the car, wanting the transition to be as smooth as possible. “I want you to twist as much as you can towards me.”

Frankie nods, doing her best to turn her body towards Louis in the cramped space.

The fall of rain has slowed down, but the outside of the car is still incredibly slippery. There’s not much to use as leverage with the SUV turned over on its side, but Louis wedges his legs against the open doorway, ensuring that he doesn’t slip off of the edge on accident. With the position she’s in, as well as her pregnant condition, there’s not too much she can do on her own to climb out and Louis knows he’s going to have to do the majority of the lifting in order to help her. He leans down and hooks his arms under hers, using all he can of his body strength to carefully hoist her free from the inside of the car.

As soon as she’s completely out, Frankie falls back against Louis, catching their breath along the side of the toppled car.

“Are you ok? Still with me?” Louis asks in concern, looking her over again to make sure that she doesn’t have any other major injuries that he may have missed before. He’s worried for the baby, there’s no way for him to accurately check the fetal heartbeat, but he’s almost certain that the baby is most likely in distress.

“I think so...” Frankie exhales, holding her hands to her protruding belly protectively. “Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t thank me yet, we’re still on top of this car.” Louis reminds, but offers a reassuring grin.

Louis crawls along the edge of the vehicle, strategizing the best way to do this. It’s not that high up from the ground and if Frankie wasn’t pregnant it would be easy for them both to simply jumped down. But since she is pregnant, and her physical abilities are limited, Louis decides to hop down first and then help ease her safely to the ground.

The entire time Louis is internally sending up prayer after prayer, hoping that she doesn’t accidentally lose her footing and slip and fall without him being able to catch her in time. The last thing they need right now is more injuries. But they take it one step at a time, with Louis never once letting her go and before long Frankie is down on the ground, safe and sound.

The second she’s got both feet to the rain-slicked road, Frankie throws her arms around Louis and hugs him tight. She’s trembling against him, still completely shaken up by the experience, so Louis wraps himself around her as securely as he can, reminding her that’s she’s ok.

“Come on, we should get away from your car. It’s not safe here.” Louis suggests after a few minutes, taking Frankie’s hand in his to begin leading her across the road to where his car is parked a little ways off. And once Louis starts to think that maybe the worst is over, Frankie’s water breaks, right there in the middle of the street, the stress of this situation putting her into labor.

“Oh my god— _no_! No!” Frankie immediately starts to freak out, frantically shaking her head. The newfound calm she just had a moment ago, gone in an instant. “No! I can’t have this baby right now, I _can’t_!”

“Hey, hey Frankie, look at me.” Louis tries, both hands coming up to her face to focus her attention. In all honesty, he wants to freak the fuck out too, he has no business being the voice of reason when he’s been an absolute mess of ceaseless panic for the past thirty-six hours. It’s been crisis after crisis and absolutely nothing seems to be going as planned and he has every fucking right to freak all the way out. But one of them needs to remain calm and considering that he’s not the one going into labor, Louis knows it has to be him. “Deep breaths, remember? It’s ok—”

“It’s not ok! It’s so not ok!” Frankie panics, stressed tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m going into labor in the middle of the fucking woods! How could that ever be ok!?”

Louis understands how terrified she must be; a situation like this isn’t ideal for anyone. And he is so tempted to give in and start screaming and crying right along with her until something about this situation starts to change. They only met moments ago and yet Louis feels incredibly responsible for her and her well-being. There might not be anything he can do about his own array of problems right now, but he’s determined to help Frankie through hers. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t even know you!” She cries, having an entire break down.

“Yeah, well that’s fair I suppose, but you do realize that your options are a bit slim since we are in the middle of the fucking woods.”

And there must be something about his sarcastic humor that gets to her because it somehow gets Frankie to crack a small smile through her tears, the beginnings of a dimple forming in her cheek. “You’re a smartass, aren’t you?”

“When I want to be.” Louis grins slightly. “But I’m also a doctor and I promise that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’re going to be ok, Frankie. Trust me.”

Frankie begins to nod her head while breathing deeply, staring back at him for a long moment. It’s a similar look she had when they first met moments ago. Louis thought she was just in shock from the accident, but maybe it’s something more.

“Frankie, what is it?” Louis asks, already thinking it could have something to do with her concussion.

She’s still gazing openly at him, seeming slightly confused and maybe even a bit lost in thought. And when she lightly touches a hand to his face it seems to be in a sort of disbelieving awe. “That’s so weird…”

“What is?”

“You really look like him.” Frankie whispers timidly, nearly gasping as she says it.

Louis frowns for a moment at a loss for what she could mean, before realization slowly dawns on him. “Your husband? I remind you of your husband?”

She nods, deeply searching his eyes. “I didn’t want to admit that at first because…I don’t know—it’s bizarre…but…you really do…”

“That’s even more reason to trust me then.” Louis smiles warmly, not mentioning the fact that her slight resemblance to Harry is not only alarming but fucking weird as hell. But he hardly has time to dwell on how oddly strange it all is, because out of nowhere Frankie starts screaming, the vice grip her hand has on his practically cutting off all his circulation.

“Fucking hell, you’re strong.” Louis curses, mostly to himself because she’s hardly paying him any attention as she braves through her first wave of contractions. “Deep breaths, remember, Frankie?” Breathe—”

But Frankie isn’t at all thinking about breathing, her only coping mechanism right now is to scream and shout any and every thing that comes to her mind, which mainly includes multiple variations of the word fuck.

“Frankie, you have to breathe.” Louis reminds once again, trying to focus her attention. “We’re going to the closest hospital, alright. Your contractions are just starting so they shouldn’t be too close together yet and—”

“Fuck! Fuck, _fuck_ , that fucking hurts!” Frankie yells, eyes still clenched tightly shut as she leans over herself. “I’m sorry Louis...just, like, give me a minute…”

“No, please—do whatever you need.” Louis encourages, giving her space.

“Ok, no. No, I’m fine—I’m ok, I can do this, it’s f-fine.” Frankie attempts to calm herself down, hobbling around in small circles. “I’m just going to breathe—breathe just like you said right, Louis? I just need to breathe…”

“Right.” Louis nods, watching her closely, ready to run to her side as soon as she needs him. “Focus everything on your breathing.”

“Breathe Françoise—pull yourself together and just fucking breathe. You’re fine. You got this.” She encourages herself with a quick pep talk, exhaling steady streams from her mouth as she bounces side to side from one foot to the other. “Ok…I think I’m good for now, we can go.”

Louis comes up next to her in order to help her waddle the rest of the way to his car. “Are you French? That’s your full name, right?”

“Actually, it’s Françoise Adélaïde Elvéra Barreau.” Frankie recites, allowing her accent to come through as she speaks.

“That’s such a beautiful name.” Louis awes, smiling at her.

“My mother sure thinks so. It’s a fucking mouthful though. She says I’ve ‘Americanized’ myself, but it’s not even true—I love my full name, but I also think ‘Frankie’ is short and sweet and easy.”

“Well, I think they’re both lovely and—”

“Oh no—there’s another one!” Frankie yelps, once again holding Louis’ hand in the tightest grip Louis has ever experienced.

“Breathe, Frankie. Breathe through it, love.” Louis encourages gently, supporting her weight as she leans against him. Louis starts timing her contractions in his head, hoping that they don’t get any closer together before they can get to a hospital.

She nods her head with every breath she takes, eyes clenched shut. “Ok, ok…I’m breathing…”

“Good, are you ok? Can you make it the rest of the way to my car?”

Frankie opens her eyes as she exhales. “Y-Yeah…I can do it...”

“Just tell me if you need to stop.” Louis guides her, moving one wobbly step at a time. “I’m right here with you.”

They only have a few more feet before finally reaching Louis’ car when he suddenly remembers that Benny is still waiting inside of it. “Do you like dogs?”

“Um…that’s kinda random, isn’t it?” Frankie lets out a sudden laugh, glancing at him. “Are you trying to distract me?”

Louis laughs lightly along with her. “No uh…I only ask because my dog is in my car and I don’t want him to freak you out or something.”

“You seem like a dog person.” Frankie decides. “What’s his name?”

Louis pauses before answering. “Benedict.”

Frankie slows her practiced breathing only to give him a look of curious confusion. “You don’t find that name to be a bit odd for a dog?”

“Don’t judge me, it’s a long story.” Louis sighs, shaking his head.

Frankie manages a smirk. “It’s gotta be with a name like that.”

They make it to Louis’ Range Rover and just as Louis thought, Benedict is pressed against window waiting keenly for his return. When Louis opens the rear passenger door to help Frankie inside, Benedict sticks his head out towards her, wagging his tail and all too eager to make a brand new friend.

“Benny, calm down, ok. We don’t have time for all that right now.”

“Ooh, he’s adorable.” Frankie smiles, a bit of the stress creasing her concentrated face melts from her features. And Benedict takes to her right away, crowding her as he tries to lick her face. It's odd because he can be so finicky when it comes to new people, yet he's taking to Frankie as though he already knows her.

“I’m sorry, he gets so excited— _Benny_ , down, boy. Come on, you’re all up in her space. Move over there, bud.” Louis commands, directing the dog back towards the front seat.

“He can stay by me, it’s ok. I don’t mind.” Frankie gives Benedict’s ears a scratch, which is the worst mistake she could have ever made because now he will never leave her alone again. “As long as he doesn’t mind me screaming and cursing at him every three seconds.”

“I’m sure he’ll manage.” Louis rolls his eyes at his attention seeking dog and goes back to helping Frankie settle into the backseat of his car, making sure she’s as comfortable as possible before closing the car door. Benedict is sat contently right beside her, acting as though he’s just made a new best friend.

Louis navigates back onto the road, careful to avoid all the wreckage Frankie’s car left behind. There’s still no service out here, so he’s just driving aimlessly down the dark path, hoping to get to either a hospital or a functional cell tower so that he can call for help, whatever comes first.

“Can I—can I call you Lou?” Frankie asks randomly, once they’ve been driving for a few minutes. “I feel like we are about to become very close tonight.”

Louis nods, knowing she is probably right about that. “Yes, of course. Call me whatever you like, Frankie.”

“Alright. Distract me, Lou.” Frankie begs, squeezing her eyes shut as another contraction passes. She’s getting a bit better at handling them now, screaming marginally less than before. “Goddammit! What the _fuck_ —sorry…sorry. I really can’t control my mouth right now.”

“It’s alright, love. Whatever gets you through it.” Louis supports. “What do you want me to distract you with?”

“You…your life. You are far too cute to be single and that accent—god, everyone must be so in love with you. The sweet, sexy English doctor.”

“Haaa.” Louis half laughs, half sighs.

“You don’t have a ring or a tan line, so I’m guessing you aren’t married.” Frankie determines correctly.

“I’m not, no.”

“Why not?” Frankie wonders.

“Um…a casualty of the job?” Louis tries, although he knows it couldn’t be further from the truth.

Frankie pulls a face, making eye contact with him through the reflection of the rearview mirror. “I don’t buy it.”

“I’m a very busy man you know.”

“But—motherfucking son of a _bitch_!” Frankie shouts suddenly, throwing her head back as she yells through the pain of her next contraction. They seem to be getting closer together and Louis doesn’t know how much longer she has.

“Ok, I’m sorry—where were we?” Frankie breathes in deeply as it begins to pass.

“Um…you were asking me why I’m not married.” Louis reminds easily.

“Ooh right...marriage…” Frankie exhales heavily, bending down a bit in her seat. “Well, do you…do you have kids?” She wonders next, holding up Avery’s missing stuffed Walrus.

“Lemon—oh my god, she’s been looking everywhere for that.” Louis gasps in surprise. She must have left it in his car months ago when he had to pick her up from school. He can’t believe it’s been back there this whole time and he didn’t even notice.

“So you have a daughter then?” Frankie guesses from his reaction.

“Oh…erm no…I mean kind of—yeah.” Louis stumbles through his answer, not even knowing how to describe it.

Frankie’s brows furrow together, clearly confused by his choice of words.  

“I have...a…um…Avery.” Louis smiles warmly at just the thought of her **,** expression softening. “She’s not mine…exactly—but she’s... _everything_.”

Frankie’s expression doesn’t change, but it’s clear that she’s waiting for an explanation.

“It’s complicated.” Louis sighs, returning the majority of his attention to the road again. “She’s the daughter of the love of my life, but he doesn’t exactly know that I still love him.”

“Mmm.” Frankie hums to herself. “And what’s his name?” 

“Harry...” Louis can’t stop the upturn of his lips as he says his name, a hint of a blush ghosting his cheeks while everything warm and good manifests and unfurls in the center of his chest.

“And why doesn’t Harry know that you love him? Why haven’t you told him?”

“Honestly…well…I just—I don’t at all know what I’m doing. I’m only out here in the middle of nowhere because I don’t know what to do—what I should do rather…” Louis starts in rambled, circled sentences. “We have so much history…me and him…ten years’ worth of shit history and we’ve both been though a lot and survived horrible losses…and uh…it complicates things, I guess? But I…I love him—after all these years I know that I really love him…I’ve always loved him and you know what? He loves me back. He finally admitted that he fucking loves me back and it’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear him say but yet I—I… I’m avoiding him—it shouldn’t be this hard for me to tell him how I feel, you know? But I...just—everyone I’ve ever loved has died or been taken away from me and I just I…” Louis shakes his head, shrugging at a loss for what he’s even trying to say. “God—why am I so fucked up…sorry...” 

“No, no please get it all out.” Frankie encourages. “We’re all a little fucked up, no need to apologize.”

Louis smiles at her in the rearview mirror, there’s something about Frankie that he can’t help but like, something so familiar it’s almost unnerving. And he’s about to agree with her wholeheartedly when Frankie suddenly cries out in pain, clutching her stomach. It’s far louder and even more urgent than it has been up until now and it immediately sends off red flags in Louis’ head.

Louis twists around in his seat to get a sideways look at her. “Frankie? Frankie, is it just a contraction? Tell me what it feels like.”

Frankie continues screaming with her eyes squeezed shut, hands on her prominent belly, unable to even answer Louis.

“Fuck.” Louis swiftly pulls the car to the side of the road safely before leaping out and going to the backseat. He turns on all the overhead lights in the cabin of the car, to gain some kind of visibility in the darkened space.

Louis palpates his hands over Frankie’s belly, feeling around to try to get a handle on the situation and gain some kind of understanding as to what could possibly be going on. But it doesn’t feel right, something is definitely wrong. These aren’t typical contractions that she’s feeling. “Frankie, lie back for me, alright? I’m going to do a pelvic exam, ok? You might feel some discomfort, but just relax as much as you can. I have to feel what’s wrong.”

Frankie nods weakly, but she’s clearly in so much pain that it’s hard for her to even acknowledge him.

Louis quickly runs to the back hatch of his Range Rover, grabbing the sorry excuse for a first aid kit that he always keeps in the trunk. There’s not much else he can do but try to somehow make it work. He rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie all the way to his elbows and squirts hand sanitizer all over his arms and hands in a shameful attempt at sterilization, pulling on a pair of thin disposable gloves from his measly first aid kit.

Frankie is still groaning in pain from the backseat, lying on her back with her knees hiked up. Her contractions are getting closer and closer together at a distressing pace and she is almost completely dilated to ten centimeters from what Louis can feel, but that’s not the only issue here, he knows it can’t be. Mentally he begins preparing himself for the prospect of delivering this baby in the back of his car on the side of the fucking road—not something he was at all planning to do. He had hoped that somehow, someway, they would make it to a hospital, but her labor is too forgone at this stage. She’s close to crowning, near the second stage of labor, except as Louis continues to feel around for the baby’s position, he figures out exactly what is wrong. Instead of a baby’s head angling down most prominently towards him, Louis is horrified to realize that it’s a foot.

“Oh no…” Louis breathes to himself, probably a bit too loud though because Frankie seems to hear him.

“Oh no? What d-does that m-mean?” She immediately panics in a shaky voice, attempting to sit up a little but hardly being able to. “Why…w-why did you say that, Louis? What’s w-wrong—is s-something wrong?”

Louis doesn’t answer right away, thinking to himself. The last thing he wants to do is worry her, but at the same time she needs to know the truth before they can try and do anything about it.

“L-Lou, tell me.” Frankie pleads emotionally.

“It’s a breech.” Louis answers, trying to keep himself calm, while also figure out what he can do with the limited resources he has. “It could be because of the accident or…or maybe it’s the pain you said you were feeling earlier but…basically your baby is upside down.”

“Oh my g-god!” Frankie shrieks in absolute hysterics, panicked tears raging down her ruddy cheeks. “Is…is h-he going to d-die—he can’t die, L-Lou, he c-can’t!”

He continues to feel around, trying to ensure that the baby has a pulse of some kind and is not having his blood supply cut off by an umbilical cord prolapse. He breathes a small sigh of relief when he feels the slight pulsation of the unborn baby.

“Frankie. Frankie, please, love.” Louis calms, leaning up to look at her face. “I know this is scary, I know, but you have to stay calm, ok? It’s really important that you stay as calm as possible.”

She’s sobbing so hard that her entire body is quivering, one arm slung over her face, covering her eyes. Frankie shakes her head repeatedly at an increasing pace and she is anything but calm. “I…I can’t lose h-him t-too…”

“Hey, hey look at me.” Louis pleads softly, waiting for her to lift her arm and meet his eyes. “You aren’t going to lose this baby, ok? I promise you that.”

“You p-promise…?” Frankie’s bottom lip quivers and it’s clear that she’s barely holding it together.

“Yes, I promise. Yes.” Louis answers as certainly as he can even though he’s completely terrified of what might happen. And it’s not the first time that’s he’s made a promise that he doesn’t know if he can even keep. But just like the times before, all he can do is try his very best and hope that his sheer determination is enough.

Louis stops and thinks for a moment, every gear in his mind turning as he heavily weighs all his options as fast as he can. Starting an emergency C-section is what would be done if they were in a hospital, but they aren’t, and it isn’t realistic for him to attempt one here. Not with the meager tools he has available in his first aid kit, lacking antiseptic and any sort of local or topical anesthetic. There’s no telling how close the nearest hospital is and there’s also no guarantee that even if it is close that Frankie or the baby would make it there in time.

That only leaves one option.

Whether he wants to or not, Louis is going to have deliver this baby himself in the back of his Range Rover. To reverse the breech and properly rotate the baby, he’ll have to use a cross between two related techniques, an internal and external cephalic version. An ECV can be risky if not done correctly and it doesn’t help that it’s been awhile since Louis last did an OB/GYN rotation. It won’t be anywhere near comfortable for Frankie, but it just may be her only hope.

“Ok Frankie, we’re going to deliver this baby.” Louis decides, blowing out a gust of breath.

“R-right now?” Frankie worries timidly.

“Right now.” Louis confirms. “But to do that, I have to move the baby around first.”

“But…h-how?”

“Frankie, love I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt like hell.” Louis tells her honestly, wanting to be as upfront about it from the beginning. “Like a fucking bitch probably and I’m so sorry—I really wish I had an epidural for you to make it easier—but you can do this and it’s going to be worth it when you get to hold your son.”

Frankie closes her eyes and nods her head, more tears running down her flushed face.

“It’s you and me, ok. It’s you and me and no matter what we are going to get through this together.” Louis reassures, speaking a confidence he barely has in him. “You can scream and shout and call me names—whatever gets you through this. Just try your best to breathe deeply and I’ll tell you when to push, ok?”

She opens her green eyes and she looks absolutely terrified—fear coating every inch of her teary face. “Lou?”

“Yes?”

Frankie’s wide eyes are earnest as she looks to him. “T-Thank you…for b-being here w-with me…”

It’s not at all what he was expecting her to say and it takes him a little off guard, nearly spurring easily reachable tears right out of him. This baby means the entire world to her—the last piece she has left of the man she loved, their only child together. And Louis refuses to be responsible for taking that away from her.

“Ready?” Louis whispers, checking one last time for her slight nod. There’s no going back from here.

With both hands placed on her abdomen, Louis applies heavy pressure externally first, pushing upwards in an attempt to move the baby away from the pelvis and create space. Frankie is already screaming a whole chain of profanities, and Louis is almost impressed by how many different ones she can string together in one breath. At one point she even slaps Louis, looking shocked by her own actions. It’s a pretty hard slap too, not that Louis is surprised, he’s learned the hard way that she’s incredibly strong.

“I’m sorry—I’m s-sorry I didn’t mean t-that!” Frankie apologizes through her pained tears. “It was a r-reflex, I swear!”

“It’s alright, I get it. I would slap me too.”

Louis continues to apply targeted pressure, and Frankie continues to scream at the top of her lungs. He feels absolutely awful about it, but he knows that it’s the only thing that is going to save her life and her unborn child’s life, avoiding further life-threatening complications.

“I know, I know…I’m so sorry.” He tries as much as he can to soothe her, wishing he could take the pain away. “Stay with me please, you can do this. Just a little more, love.”

Louis makes sure to pause every so often to give Frankie a break and also to manually check the position of the baby. Usually an ultrasound would be used to monitor the procedure intermittently, but Louis has to feel it all by hand, hoping that by some miracle he’s getting it as close to right as possible. It’s a tedious process of pushing and pulling and manipulating her uterus in terribly uncomfortable ways, but eventually Louis is able to rotate the baby from completely upside down to sideways and finally to the head first presentation necessary for delivery.

Louis gives her a moment to try and catch her breath, understanding how much discomfort she must be in. Frankie is crying uncontrollably, and he doesn’t even want to ask her to push, he doesn’t want her to have to go through anymore of this.

“Frankie, darling, you’re so brave.” Louis says gently, hoping his encouragements reach her. “You have to push now, ok? You can do this.”

She’s still sobbing heavily, sounding so insufferably scared. “No, no…n-no— I don’t want to—no, n-no I…I can’t do it a-anymore…no…”

“Hey, Frankie, love, it’s ok.” Louis leans up so she that can see him and hopefully believe him. “You’re ok, you’re going to get through this.”

“N-No…no I can’t, Lou I can’t— it h-hurts…” Frankie breaks down even more and Louis can see the pure defeat on her face as she wildly shakes her head in dread. “It’s t-too much—I c-can’t…”

“You _can_.” Louis encourages in confidence, meeting her eyes. “You can do this, I know you can. You’ve come too far to give up now.”

Frankie holds Louis’ gaze, seeming to draw strength from it the longer she looks at him.

“Just try for me.” Louis begs softly. “Please try, ok? It’s your baby, I want you to meet your baby.”

Frankie nods faintly, taking in a few faltered breaths. “I’ll t-try…”

“On the count of three, alright?” Louis prepares, taking in a breath himself. “One, two, three, push!”

Frankie starts to push, giving her very all even though she doesn’t even have it in her. And the whole time Louis continues to shower her with praise and encouragement, making sure that she knows she’s not alone in this. It seems to help her get through it, giving her something else to focus on.

“That’s it, Frankie. You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you.”

Her entire face is scrunched up completely, teeth gritted as she screams her way through it, sweat at her brow mixing with the tears at her cheeks. She’s out of breath, she’s exhausted herself, but she’s still trying her very best and Louis can’t help but admire her for that.

“Come on, Frankie almost there, you can do it. Wait—stop!” Louis says suddenly, noting the fluctuating complexion of the baby’s head. And it doesn’t take Louis long to figure out that the umbilical cord has twisted its way around the baby’s neck and every time Frankie pushes, it asphyxiates tighter around his airway. It’s a common occurrence that happens with breeched babies and Louis can’t believe he forgot to continue checking for it as she began to push.

“Why…w-what’s wrong…” She worries weakly, her strength fading.

“Just hold on, Frankie…” Louis tells her as calmly as he can, deciding not to give her the full truth this time because he doesn’t want to stress her out even more than she already is. He takes the small first aid scissors from the kit and carefully uses them to clip the cord early, relieving the built-up pressure around the unborn baby’s airway.

“Ok, just give me one more push, love. I know you’re tired, but it’s almost over, I promise.” Louis reassures, praying that it’s enough. “One more, Frankie. Just one more.”

Louis doesn’t know where she gets the strength to do it, not after everything that she’s gone through today alone, but somehow, she puts in one finally push, which is just enough to fully deliver her baby.

“He’s out—you did it!” Louis announces, carefully holding the newly born baby boy in his arms. Louis can feel his brachial pulse, but yet the baby hasn’t made a single sound.

Frankie is completely spent, head lulled to the side in exhaustion as she exhales heavily, trying to catch her breath. “He’s n-not crying…” She mutters in a hoarse whisper, eyes barely kept open. “W-Why isn’t he…crying…” 

The newborn still appears somewhat cyanotic and he has yet to take his first breath. And Louis prays that there isn’t anything major obstructing the infant’s airways, because he is hardly prepared for a full neonatal resuscitation considering their less than ideal situation. Louis uses two fingers to apply repeated pressure to the center of his tiny chest, counting the beats inside his head and hoping the cardiopulmonary stimulation is enough to get his system going. It takes a few lengthy moments before the baby sputters into a healthy cry.

“There he is, there’s a good lad.” Louis smiles emotionally, overwhelmed by relief as he tears up a little. Gazing down at the new, innocent life in his arms, it all feels worth it. He doesn’t have a blanket in his car, so Louis wraps the baby up in a jumper from his suitcase and presents him to his mother. “You’re a mum now, Frankie. Congratulations, he’s beautiful.” 

Frankie’s face goes soft as she looks at her precious newborn son. She’s clearly drained all of her energy, but a peaceful bliss begins to coat her features until her eyes roll back against her head, before closing altogether as her body goes completely lax.

“Frankie? Frankie!” Louis taps on her face several times to try and wake her up, calling her name repeatedly but all to no avail. “Frankie, can you hear me?”

Louis is now painfully aware of the head laceration Frankie sustained, the fluid pressure in her brain could have been building this whole time, hemorrhaging and only exacerbated by the stress of her painful delivery. She still has a pulse, it’s faint, but it’s holding on and there’s breath still leaving her nostrils in drawn out intervals.

“Shit.” Louis worries, knowing that he only has a limited window to get her to a hospital, except there’s still no service in this area and he has not the faintest idea where the nearest one is. But he’s got to try—Louis can’t stand idly by and watch her die right before his eyes, not when they’ve already come this far, and she has a brand new baby who needs her.

Louis quickly adjusts Frankie’s body enough to buckle her seatbelt, holding the newborn baby to his chest as he jumps into the driver’s seat. “Hold on, Frankie—please hold on.”

The stakes are high, the anxious stress of the situation is unbearably increasing. The curving road is dark as fuck, still slick from the downpour of rain earlier, and Louis is focusing all of his determination on trying to drive as fast as he can as safely as he can, all while balancing a crying infant in one arm.

Benny, bless his heart, is perched protectively by Frankie in the backseat, making little high-pitched whining sounds, clearly sensing that something is not right with her.

Without knowing where he’s going, it feels like Louis is driving into a hopeless abyss, growing bleaker and bleaker by each desolate mile. He doesn’t want to lose hope, he doesn’t want to give up because what is the point of all this if she dies too—what is the fucking point of any of it? Why is life always throwing him twists and curveballs with no clue how to decipher what it all means?

“ _Wireless connection established.”_

“Nearest hospital!” Louis screams immediately at the car intercom.

_“Would you like directions to the nearest hospital?”_

“Yes— _yes_! Fuck!”

_“Starting route to Cedarwood Community Hospital.”_

The directions finally load onto the display screen and Louis breathes a slight sigh of relief when he sees that the hospital is only 2.7 miles away from where he currently is. It gives him all the push he needs to just focus on getting to the hospital.

It’s a small, most likely privately-owned hospital that Louis pulls up to a few minutes later. They don’t even have an emergency room entrance, so Louis drives to the very front and throws the gear into park in the loading lane.

He jumps out of the car with the baby curled to his chest, leaving the driver side door wide open as he runs inside the hospital to the main lobby, shouting as loud as his lungs will carry. “Help! Help! I need help!”

There’s not a soul in the entire lobby and that means there’s probably not too many people on staff at this time of night, given that it’s such a small facility. But Louis continues yelling anyway, figuring that eventually someone will hear him. And it works because only thirty seconds later a resident of some kind runs out to meet him, looking utterly alarmed. “Sir, are you ok? What happened to you?”

Louis realizes that he has a lot of blood on himself and it’s hard to tell what he’s screaming about. He knows how crazed he must look running into the lobby of a quaint, quiet hospital in the middle of the night, covered in bloodstains and muddy rainwater with a newborn baby and a dog, but what else is he supposed to do?

“No—I mean it’s not me—I’m ok. I wasn’t in the accident.” Louis tries to explain, adrenaline coursing hot in his bloodstream and it’s like he can’t even catch his breath. He lifts his free hand to point outside while cradling the swaddled baby with the other. “S-She’s outside…in…in my car…”

The resident rushes to follow Louis back outside to the car he hardly parked. Louis flings open the rear passenger door where Frankie still lies comatose. “She…she was in an accident—she just gave birth…and—”

The resident leans into the car and briefly inspects Frankie, but it’s clear that he has little, if any, hands-on emergency response training. “Is this your wife, sir?”

“No, we just met—I told you she was in an accident—a really bad car accident and I f-found her and uh delivered the baby but then it—it was a breech and her head is—she passed out and her pulse and…and—”

“Sir, slow down.” The resident says, talking to him as though he’s some sort of child. “You need to calm down.”

 _“_ No! No, I will not calm down! She needs a CT scan  _now_!” Louis insists, focusing himself as much as he possibly can so he doesn’t sound so scattered. He takes in a deep breath, reminding himself that he is far better under pressure than this and if Frankie is going to live, she needs Louis to get his shit together and act like the experienced surgeon he is. “Look, she’s already lost a lot of blood—she’s got a severe head lac affecting her inferior frontal lobe and it’s hemorrhaging as we speak. She needs surgery right away—”

“We aren’t a trauma center—we aren’t equipped to treat her.”

Obviously, Louis figured that already, especially with the lack of an emergency room entrance as well as lack of adequately trained staff. “Do you have an O.R. on grounds?”

“Yes, of course, but we mainly perform outpatient procedures.” He explains regretfully. “No one here is trained to handle that kind of procedure.”

“I am—I’ll do it, I’ll operate. Just give me O.R. privileges, I’m a neurosurgeon.”

The resident seems utterly taken aback by this news, his first instinct seeming to be distrust. Louis gets that he doesn’t quite look the part in his current state, but why the hell would he lie about something as serious as that in a situation like this. “We can't just take your word for it—I mean things have to be verified and approved. You could be anyone—”

“I know how the process works—just fucking google me!” Louis barks, quickly becoming irritated by this resident’s overall incompetence. “Dr. Louis Tomlinson. I’m the Head of Neurosurgery at Seaside Seattle Medical Center.”

“Ok, but…um…even if that’s true, there are still papers and forms—”

“We can deal with the fucking paperwork after, ok!” Louis snaps, not giving a fuck anymore. “She is going to die if left untreated for much longer! What part of ‘she needs surgery right away’ do you not understand!?”

“I can’t just override the protocol. I’m not authorized—”

“Well then get me someone who _is_ authorized! I can’t believe you’re really going to stand there and argue this with me when there is literally a dying woman who just gave birth in your fucking parking lot!” Louis rants angrily, unable to even pretend to bite his tongue after the ongoing hours of pure, insufferable hell he’s had. He was bound to snap eventually, pushed long past his breaking point. “What kind of hospital is this! I know you’re not a trauma center, that much is obvious—but anyone with some kind of medical training or at the very least, common sense, should understand what an _emergency_ looks like!”

The resident gawks, not knowing what to say. “I uh…um…well…”

“Page someone and help her for fucks sake!” Louis is truly flabbergasted that the resident still hasn’t moved an inch. He swears that if nothing changes in the next five seconds, he’s going to figure out a way to carry Frankie and her baby into whatever O.R. they have at this stupid hospital all by his fucking self and let the consequences be fucking damned.

But Louis’ boisterous outburst has acquired the attention of what appears to be another doctor, running over to meet them accompanied by a few other medical staff. But she looks to be of a higher rank than the resident he’s been forced to deal with, thank _god_.

“Dr. Tomlinson?” She addresses him by name, most likely having overheard most of Louis’ tirade given how incredibly loud he was. “I’m Dr. Nelson, The Chief here…It’s an honor to have you here, Doctor. I was actually planning on attending your presentation at the conference tomorrow.”

Louis just stares at her, not having any decent words left in him. If he says anything else, it’s not going to be pretty, so it’s best that he just doesn’t open his mouth anymore. He can’t help how ferociously protective he gets over people he feels personally responsible for, over people he _cares_ about. This is a matter of life and death, Louis refuses to be calm about it.

“Dr. Tomlinson is right, we can deal with the formalities later.” Dr. Nelson decides immediately, gesturing towards the other staff that she brought with her. “Let’s call the O.R. and get Dr. Tomlinson to surgery ASAP.”

“Right away, Dr. Nelson.”  They begin situating Frankie’s body on a gurney, securing oxygen to her face as they rush her through the sliding doors of the main hospital entrance.  

A nurse requests to take the newborn baby and Louis almost doesn’t want to hand him over to her; it’s not her fault but he’s quickly developed a severe lack of trust with the staff of this hospital. But logically he knows that he can’t possibly hold a baby and operate at the same time, so he reluctantly passes the swaddled infant to her, eyeing the nurse the whole time.

“Right this way, Dr. Tomlinson.” Dr. Nelson prompts politely.

Louis first picks up Benedict’s leash from where it’s fallen to the ground, still tethered to his harness. “Could you…” He hands the resident Benedict’s leash, giving him a task so he can finally be of some good fucking use.

The resident takes the leash, but is already shaking his head. “There’s no dogs allowed in—”

“You’ll figure it out. Great, thanks.” Louis interjects in a clipped voice, avoiding any more power struggles as he follows after Dr. Nelson.

 

||☤||

 

After the surgery, which managed to run for seven long hours, Louis stumbles to the first available quiet space he can find in the small hospital and collapses on the couch. He doesn’t think about where he is or who might come looking for him, he doesn’t have the energy to care about any of it. Louis curls his body up to fit within the cushions of the loveseat sized couch he’s using as a bed, and passes out for some much needed rest, the stressful exhaustion of the past few days lulling him right to sleep in seconds.

When he wakes up, Louis finds Benedict cuddled up next to him, somehow making space for himself where there wasn’t any real space at all to begin with.

Louis blinks groggily, feeling completely disoriented and hardly remembering where he is at all. “How’d you get in here, B?”

“He refused to leave you.”

Louis jumps, startled by the unexpected presence of someone else in the room.

“Sorry—sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. I was just picking up a few things.” Dr. Nelson says from where she’s standing by a desk. “You seemed like you probably needed the sleep more than I needed my office.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—” Louis apologizes genuinely, sounding mortified as he abruptly sits up on the couch. “I didn’t mean to just crash in your office like that, I wasn’t even thinking clearly and I—”

“No, it’s perfectly alright, Dr. Tomlinson.” Dr. Nelson waves off understandingly. “I know how it is.”

Louis flicks his gaze down to his watch and has to do a double take when he sees the time is nearly seven at night. “Have I really been asleep for _fourteen_ hours?”

Dr. Nelson nods, giving him a small smile. “You were knocked out.”

“Well, fuck.” Louis scrubs his hands over his face, leaning back against the couch as he blows out a heavy huff of breath. He knew he was tired, but not _that_ tired. In an odd way it sort of feels like last night’s exhaustion and stress had triggered him into becoming The Hulk and now he’s back to being Bruce Banner again. “I guess it’s safe to say I’m definitely not speaking at that conference now.”

“Afraid not.” She laughs lightly. “It’s a shame though, I was looking forward to hearing your presentation. I’ve followed your work for awhile.”

“You wouldn’t have been missing anything, I assure you.” Louis says, sighing to himself. “Between you and me, I didn’t even have a presentation prepared. I was literally planning on going up there and just winging it. I’d probably would have pulled an old case study out of my ass and hoped for the best.”

“You’re joking.” Dr. Nelson gapes in surprise, chuckling. He’s really not living up to the name that precedes him—she probably thinks he’s a damn quack doctor now.

Louis shakes his head, laughing a bit with her. “Nope. Totally serious. That’s just the kind of week I’ve had.” He sighs again, running a hand though his oily hair—ugh, he’s a mess. “I really am sorry for commandeering your office like that, it was rude and—”

“Dr. Tomlinson, it’s _fine_ , really.” Dr. Nelson assures again. “We all have weeks like that. I completely understand.”

Louis offers her a thankful smile. “How’s Frankie doing?” The surgery all feels like a distant blur now and he’s hoping that in his manic state, he didn’t botch up her brain.

“Fantastic, thanks to you. She’s been asking for you actually, if you’d like to go see her.”

Before making his way over to check in on Frankie, Louis knows he has to do something about his hygienic appearance. Louis feels absolutely gross, wearing a pair of ugly puce colored scrubs that he operated in the night before, but still feeling traces of all sorts of grime on his skin. He showers in the tiny intern locker room, scrubbing away the remaining grunge until he feels even more like himself again. His comfy joggers are still all muddy and blood stained from the accident, so Louis changes into the only other outfit he foolishly brought with him, which happens to be a full suit. It’s a lot, but at least he’s clean.

Louis also makes a point to track down the poor resident from the night before and apologize to him for his outburst, as well as thank him for watching his dog. Although he was right in many senses, Louis recognizes that it also wasn’t his most professional moment and for that he is completely apologetic.

“All dressed up just to see little old me?” Frankie teases when Louis walks into her hospital room in his fitted black suit. And the way she says it somehow reminds him instantly of Gemma. It’s exactly something that she would say to him. The features of her face are sweet and kind, freckles peppering her cheeks that Louis didn’t notice in all the chaos of before.

Louis smirks out of the corner of his mouth as he leans against the doorway. “Obviously.”

“You clean up really well, you know. Not that you were in any way hideously unattractive in a hoodie and sweats or anything, but…” She smirks at him knowingly.

He laughs, walking into the room, taking a look at her monitors as he picks up her chart. They still have paper charts at this hospital, which is hardly shocking considering their level of care. “So how are you feeling?”

“I’m on so many drugs and pain relievers and shit, how the hell would I know?” Frankie shrugs a bit, smiling wide.

“You really are such a mess.” Louis shakes his head in a fond sort of way. “I thought it was just because you were in labor, but no…that’s just 100% you.”

“Charming, I know.” Frankie grins, and it’s a bit lopsided, only one dimple in her cheek. “It’s how I get all the boys. My husband used to call me ‘the most endearing kind of eccentric’.”

“That’s cute and it suits you, I think.” Louis compliments. “It sounds like he knew you very well.”

“He was my best friend…” Frankie’s voice dies out and she gazes off for a second in thought as something dark flickers over her features, a shadow of tremendous sadness. But then she blinks out of it, shaking her head to move herself on before lifting her gaze back up, completely refocused.  

“So, I’ve thought of a name.” Frankie announces around a growing smile that brightens her face back up again.

Louis sits down on the edge of her bed. “For your baby?”

She nods eagerly, pretty green eyes lit up with excitement. 

“Is it French? Because I’m expecting a full French name. Nothing else will do him justice.”

“Um…unintendedly yes, actually. But nothing like my name, I’m afraid. I mean—my name just can’t be topped.”

“Let’s hear it then.” Louis encourages, curious to hear it.

She pauses purposefully, holding his gaze steady for a few moments before revealing the name. “Louis David. And I’m going to call him little Lou all the time.” 

“You’re naming your son after me?” Louis asks in utter disbelief, totally taken aback as blinks at her.

He’s waiting for her to tell him that she’s only joking, that she just wanted to see his reaction or something like that, but she never does. Instead Frankie takes his closest hand in hers, looking to him with so much thankful admiration in her eyes. “He never would have been born without you, Lou. You saved both of our lives and for the rest of my life, I’ll always be thankful to you for that.”

“Frankie…” Louis shakes his head at a loss for words, hand limp in her hand.

“No, Louis it’s not even just that…it’s…” Frankie pauses, growing emotional as a few heavy droplets fall from under her eyes, rolling along her cheekbones. She glances up, trying to collect her thoughts and stop herself from full on crying. “…I don’t know how to put it into words but…I was so scared of being alone when it was time for the baby to come...I didn’t want to have to do it all by myself and…and…you were here. He—David… he c-couldn’t be here with me…but I don’t know—you were and it’s…it’s almost like he was too…and it may not make sense to you or at all but—”

“It does.” Louis whispers behind a soft smile, holding onto her hand tightly. “I get it.”  

“I want you to be his godfather.” Frankie tells him next, water still lining her eyes.

Louis can only stare back at her, mouth open in surprise. “Frankie, that’s…I mean—are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure, Lou!” Frankie smiles expressively, wiping her tearful eyes. “It has to be you.”

Louis feels so incredibly honored, moved beyond belief. “I’m…I mean I’m speechless—I really don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say anything.” She assures him, giving his palm a squeeze. “But…you know what you can do?”

“Anything for you, Frankie.”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MCtEg6brxAA&index=5&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtl_5WFZR5Jw4wRWtG-W_MD)

“I want you to go home and tell that Harry of yours exactly how you feel about him.”

Louis laughs sardonically, scoffing down at his feet.

“I’m serious, Louis.”

“I’m sure you are.” Louis glances to her.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, it doesn’t even have to make sense…just tell him how you feel.” Frankie urges, inclining her head towards him gently. “You just have to say it, Lou.”

It really does sound so simple and easy when she says it like that. But it’s not simple, nor is it anywhere near easy. He knows that she is only trying to help, but she may not know how much it’s actually asking of him.

“Look, I know I only just met you, but I feel like…I don’t know—I feel so close to you somehow and I also feel completely indebted to you for saving my life and my son’s life and I just…I really want you to be happy—it’s important to me.” Frankie tells him earnestly, with her hand clamped around his. “There’s a pain hidden in your eyes, Lou. And the only reason I can see it, is because I understand it—I’ve felt it. I can see it on your face, like a dark cloud weighing you down and the only time it begins to fade away is when you talk about him. About Harry.”

Louis lifts his gaze to her, already shaking his head, wanting to make her understand. “Frankie—”

“No, Louis listen to me for a second.” Frankie interjects before he can even begin to argue with her. She takes a deep breath, dropping her gaze down to her lap for a moment as she gathers her words. When she lifts her head back up, there’s even more water brimming at her emerald eyes, an unparalleled vulnerability in the emotional expression on her face. “I…I would give everything to have my h-husband back with me a-again. He was the love of my life…my f-favorite person in the world—he knew me better than anyone…and I s-spend every last moment without him feeling like there’s an unfillable hole in my h-heart. I would give a-anything to be able to tell him how much I love him just o-one more time…”

As he listens to her speak, Louis’ heart aches from the deep within his chest, eyes stinging as a profound sadness hallows his core, internalizing the grave loss she feels. It’s inconceivable, to lose your love, your heart—Frankie didn’t deserve to experience a loss like that so young, no one deserves that, and Louis can’t even fathom how she could possibly be coping with it. “I’m so s-sorry…I…”

“I don’t w-want that for you…” Frankie tears up fervently, holding tight to Louis’ hand. “The love of your life is out there waiting for you, Louis…he’s _w-waiting_ for you. You still can tell him you l-love him, don’t w-waste that. P-Please don’t waste it...” She begs him adamantly through her growing tears and Louis can physically feel how much she cares, only further triggering his stinging tear ducts. “I don’t know you personally Louis—I don’t know what exactly you’ve been through…or what Harry has been through, b-but what I do know is that nothing is that big that it should keep you apart forever…not if you love each other as strongly as you clearly do. He’s your _family_ , Lou. They both are. Harry and Avery are your family. You need them. And it's because you need them so much that you shouldn't waste any more time.”

Louis gives up on trying to hold his own burning tears back anymore, allowing the fresh saltwater to finally rage freely down his cheeks. Part of him knows that what she is saying is undoubtedly true, but he can’t bring himself to fully accept it, feeling like a prisoner chained against his own free will, bound to trepidations that persistently outnumber him. He begins to shake his head, sniffling away the overwhelming emotions. “B-But I…I could still l-lose them…there’s always a c-chance that I could lose them completely a-and…and I don’t know if I can h-handle that…not…not a-again…”

It’s that same unquieted fear, the one he never fails to come back to no matter what he does, despite how hard he tries or even how often he wishes. It’s there, always, _always_ there, lurking in the shadows of his past, grappled onto his life, infecting him like a poison without a cure, parasitic in the way it drains his every hope and corrupts his thought process. It is the all-consuming fear of losing everything once he has it, once he dares let his guard down.

Frankie tilts her head to him empathetically and there’s so much gentle understanding behind her heartfelt, green eyes. She cups one hand to the side of his face in comfort and when she speaks again, her voice is so caring and soft. “You’ve lost people before, people you loved dearly, and I get that…I know how it changes you. It’s so hard to live on without them and it makes it almost impossible to let anyone else in again because the fear of losing them is always there.” She takes the words right out of Louis’ mouth, almost as though she has direct access to his thoughts. “But maybe that’s the tragic beauty of it, Lou. The minute you realize all the things you have is the minute you see all you stand to lose. But you can’t be afraid of it…if you give in to those fears, then you’ve already lost.”

The tears that once rolled silently down his cheeks, are having an increasingly greater effect over him and Louis feels so much at once, far too much at once. So much that he can’t even begin to control how he expresses it, pouring out of him freely.

“When my husband first got sick…he kept repeating this famous, old quote that he read somewhere from some English poet, and he would go on and on about how it was the truest thing he’d ever read. ‘ _It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all_ ’. I hated it…I fucking hated that quote so much…I told him it was cliché and rooted in pure fucking ignorance, but it was only after he died that I realized how true it really was…” Frankie recounts, breathing deeply as she speaks of her late husband. “If I could go back with every knowledge that my b-best friend would die before our first child was even born…I’d s-still love him just as much and…I’d still treasure e-every last second we had left together no matter how long it lasted. The length of love doesn’t determine its value…long or short, it’s never in vain—not if you loved with everything you had, with e-everything you are. The time you have together is precious and it’s worth it—every single moment together is a-always so worth it. Even if it was the very last together…it’s worth it…”

“Things happen. Bad, ugly—fucking horrific things happen all the time no matter how hard we try to avoid them. You’ve seen it, I’ve seen it…we’ve both lived it. But please don’t let things happen without telling the people you love how much they really mean to you. Don’t wait till it’s too late and don’t live your whole life in fear of the worst happening. Just _…live,_ Louis.” Frankie pleads, still holding a hand to his teary face as she stares right into his blue eyes. “There’s always going to be what if’s in life— _always,_ but don’t let them hold you captive anymore. Because life is far too short and far too beautiful to wait and let it all pass you by, wishing you’d done it all differently. Live now, love now, see all the good there is in life while you can still enjoy it.”

Losing his family at such a young age forced Louis to grow up faster. It forced him into living his life unattached, uncommitted. It allowed him to be numb and apathetic, the sheer idea of being hurt like that again easily controlling the vast majority of his actions, denying anyone complete access to his heart.

But it’s no way to _live_. Louis knows it’s not—because if he constantly tries to protect himself from getting hurt, tries to spare his heart from breaking any further, he will always be left empty. He will always be looking and searching for something to fill that gaping void, patch that permanent hole in his heart. A hole that he knows Harry and Avery fill.

His life is better with them in it—with Avery’s bright, brave spirit and Harry’s sweet, encompassing gentleness. Regardless of the past and all that comes entangled with it, Louis’ life is so much better with the people he loves in it.

Frankie is saying all this to him from such a real place, a place of painfilled experience. Frankie has lived the nightmare Louis fears more than anything and yet she would still go through it all again. She would experience all the sorrow, she would take the hurt and the loss, and the pain for _love_. A love that made every terrifying thing worth it and still stands the test of time long after the pain.

Love is worth the uncertainty, it’s worth the risk and the fear, the ups and the downs. It’s worth it _all_.

And it clicks together for him, like finally seeing for the very first time; everything put into perspective so simply by someone who was a complete stranger to him twenty-four hours ago. The peace he couldn’t seem to find, the clarity he struggled to rectify, the answer to a question he couldn’t even formulate into words.

Louis leans in suddenly and envelopes Frankie into a hug, a warm, solid hug, letting his body depress against her. His eyes have fallen closed, lingering trails of water coating his face as he embraces her. “Frankie,  _thank you.._.” He whispers in all sincerity through a rush of exhaled breath.  

She’s still weak from the surgery, but she hugs him back as best she can, both arms coming up to encircle around his back. “No, Lou...thank you.”

There’s no such thing as coincidences, Louis believes that to be unendingly true. It can’t be chance that brought them together when they both needed it most, it can’t be accidental that their paths intertwined in such astoundingly personal ways, reminding each other of the people they love most. And it’s so strange how life sometimes brings people along unpredictably, unassumingly—dropping in when least expected only to make a huge, lifelong impact.

Louis is still holding Frankie close, feeling so incredibly appreciative of her. “I don’t know why I met you like I did…and I may never know, but I’ll never, ever forget you…”

“I’d say I got pretty lucky. Of all the people that could have found me, I got a fucking neurosurgeon. And a good one at that.” Frankie teases lightly. “Still a smartass though.”

Louis’ lips upturn into a slow smile as he laughs, rubbing at his watery eyes. And he feels so much lighter than he did yesterday, it’s an odd sensation, but in the newfound airiness he feels determined, suddenly antsy to get back to his family and begin moving forward with his life. He glances down at his watch, before returning his gaze back to Frankie curiously. “Fancy a trip to Seattle?”

Frankie looks taken aback, pulling her eyebrows together. “What? _Now_?”

“Well, I have to get back and I can’t just leave you here with these people—erm, no offense to them.” Louis glances over his shoulder, hoping none of the staff overheard him outside of the room. “I’m going to call for a helicopter from my hospital to come rescue you and my godson from this backwards place.”

“Wow, you are important over there aren’t you?” Frankie smirks at him.

“Oh hush.” Louis waves her off, smiling. “You’re my patient and you’ve just had a major brain surgery, I have to monitor you. God knows, no one here is going to do it.”

Frankie laughs, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Are you done roasting the fuck out of them? Jesus.”

“No, I’m not, they almost let you die, Frankie! It was very traumatic for me!” Louis insists adamantly. “We are _leaving_.”

“Ok, but that means I get to meet Harry, right?” Frankie beams, wiggling her eyebrows excitedly. “And Avery!”

“That’s all you care about, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah. What can I say, I’m a sucker for a happy ending.” Frankie shrugs slightly, giving him a knowing look.  “Besides, someone has to make sure you don’t fuck everything up.”

 

 

||☤||

 

Louis calls SSMC and arranges for a helicopter to transfer Frankie and baby Louis to Seattle, accompanied by a neuro fellow under his department to monitor them on the way. He’d ride with her himself, if it wasn’t for Benedict. That dog has already had far too much excitement for his little heart to handle at one time, and he would probably do better if they drove back.

Although, Louis still has half a mind to just leave his car in Oregon and hop onto the helicopter with Benny anyway just to get back to Seattle faster. He’s nearly exploding with all things he needs to get off of his chest and tell Harry. It’s funny, or maybe not so funny, that he’s been within talking distance of Harry for weeks not saying a single thing, but now, when he’s miles away he wants to scream everything at once.

Louis can’t waste any more time—too much time has already been eaten up and if he has been reminded of anything on this unexpected trip, it’s that life is truly precious, and it shouldn’t be taken for granted or squandered. So, Louis drives through the night, using the time to really organize his thoughts and feelings into the words he wants to finally tell Harry.

Fuck, but he’s so hopelessly anxious, nervous energy ricocheting around inside as he imagines what Harry might say or what’s to come next. There’s excitement mixed in with the nerves, but still he’s worried as all get out. It’s not going to be easy and it may take him more than one try to get it right, but Louis is not going to let fear keep him away from the people he loves any longer.

Once he reaches Seattle, he quickly stops by his house to drop Benedict off, before heading straight to the hospital where he knows he’ll find Harry and Avery. He takes the quickest route to Avery’s room, not stopping for anything or anyone.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEjvMOWxQg8&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtl_5WFZR5Jw4wRWtG-W_MD&index=6)

The second Avery notices Louis at her door, her smile grows as wide and bright as ever, practically stretching from ear to ear. “Louis!”

“Aves.” Louis whispers, unable to hold back his full smile as his heart flutters at the sight of her, alive and awake and so incredibly beautiful. He hurries into the room, wasting no time in wrapping her right into his open arms for the warmest hug. “Hi little love. I’ve missed you so much, my darling.”

“I missed you too.” Avery squeezes him as tightly as her weak recovering arms can manage, eyes closed as she nuzzles her face to his chest. The two of them stay that way for a while, content to be surrounded in each other’s embrace. Eventually she pulls back and looks up at him with a slight pout on her face. “You weren’t here when I woke up like you promised.”

“I know, Aves. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Louis apologizes regretfully, tracing the side of her face with his thumb. “I just had a lot on my mind that I had to sort out and I know that’s no excuse, but I really am sorry. I should have been here for you, love. Will you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

Avery nods slowly in understanding, never able to stay mad at him for very long. “Did you figure it out? Your thoughts, I mean.”

Louis studies her sweet face, taking in every last detail that he almost forced himself to live without. From the light freckles cutely dusting her nose, to the deep crescents folded into her cheeks that make her look so much like her beautiful mother, the stunning gold flecks that glimmer in the syrupy honey of her brilliantly colored eyes. He could never dream of living without her, of letting another second pass him by without being there to watch her grow up, to be that other parent she can always turn to, the parent he was always meant to be.

“Yeah, I think I did...” Louis answers after a beat, smiling softly at his favorite girl.

“Good.” Avery nods once succinctly, sitting up a bit more in her bed. “Now get out.”

“What?” Louis wonders in complete surprise, eyebrows shooting up.

“Get out, Louis!” Avery demands again, tapping his thigh lightly to push him along. “I don’t want to see you until you tell my Daddy that you love him. Enough is _enough_.”

“ _Avery Styles_.” Louis gasps amidst his amused laughter, smiling fondly at her.

“I’m serious!” Avery frowns adorably, getting that same crease in her brow that Harry gets when he’s frustrated. “Get out of my room and go find him!” And when Louis doesn’t immediately move, she deepens her frown even more. “Right now! Right now!”

“Alright, alright! I’m going.” Louis holds his hands up in defeat and slides off the bed. “I just wanted to stop and check up on my girl because I missed her so much, but it seems I’m apparently not welcome.”

“Not right now, you’re not.” Avery states defiantly. “We can hang out later, this is more important. Now go please!”

Louis leans down to kiss the top of her head goodbye, but Avery even rushes him through that, making a shooing motion with her hands and practically pushing him away from her bed. Louis obliges with another fond smile, blowing her a kiss from the doorway before heading down the corridor. But it soon dawns on him that he forgot something; and with a quick run to his car, Louis is back at Avery’s door in under ten minutes.

“No! Why are you back?” Avery pouts, crossing her hands over her chest. “I thought I was very clear.”

“Oh, you were.” Louis nods with amusement. “It’s just that you kicked me out so fast I forgot to give this back to you.” He pulls the long-lost walrus from behind his back to surprise her.

Avery’s practiced frown breaks completely at the sight of her favorite plush walrus, excitement reframing her features. She hugs the stuffed animal right to her chest, smiling up at Louis thankfully. “Lemon! You found him! Where was he?”

“Apparently in my car the whole time.”

Avery appears happy for about three more seconds before she schools her face back into a frown that she thinks is stern and convincing. “It probably could have waited but…I’ll allow it.” She decides with an adorable huff. “Now leave.”

“Geez, tough crowd.” Louis sighs dramatically, heading back towards the door. “You really want to get rid of me, don’t you?”

“Yes! Don’t come back if my Daddy’s not with you.” Avery calls behind him.

But not even a minute later, Louis is right back in her room, already giggling to himself because he knows that he’s about to be scolded by a nine-year-old yet again.

“Louis!” Avery hisses at him, clearly growing more frustrated.

“One more thing, I swear!” Louis defends, trying to mask his laughter.

“What is it this time?” Avery sighs, completely exasperated with him but it’s so cute, Louis almost wants to keep bothering her.

Louis smiles widely as he comes in closer. He kneels down by her bed, so they’re at eye level with each other before he continues. “I just wanted to tell you that you are everything and more to me. You’re the light of my life and I don’t think you’ll ever really know how happy you make me, but I love you, Aves.” He tells her earnestly, kissing her forehead. “I love you so much, sweetheart and I couldn’t wait any longer to tell you that.”

Avery throws her short, little arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug and Louis can feel her smile against his neck, like it’s all she ever wanted to hear him say. “I love you too, Louis. So, so much.”

Hearing her whisper her love back to him, sounding so unequivocally enthusiastic about how she feels, touches Louis’ inner soul. His heart could truly explode, not nearly enough space in his ribcage to contain all the love he has just for her.

“Now go say it again, but not to me this time.” Avery encourages, arms still draped around his neck.

Louis nods in complete and total agreeance, pressing one more kiss to her temple before he stands to his feet and starts to leave. But it’s hardly two seconds later when Louis returns once again to her room, grinning sheepishly in the doorway.

“ _Again_!?” Avery huffs in exasperation, throwing her hands up. “I love you Louis, really! I do! But I need you to go!”

Louis chuckles, shrugging his shoulders apologetically. “Ok, ok I’m sorry, I’m leaving for real this time! I promise! But um…do you happen to know where your dad is exactly? Could you maybe point me in the right direction?”

Avery purses her lips at him, sighing to herself with nothing, but affection in her gaze. “He went to get us gelato.”

“For _breakfast_? It’s only five in the morning.”

Avery shrugs, a bit of mischievousness in her eye. “I really, really, _reaallly_ wanted it and it’s open right now, so he promised he’d go out and get it for me because I begged him.”

It’s only open because of its prime location by the hospital; the owners keenly aware that the cravings of medical professionals as well as patients have no time constraints. Even Louis can admit that he’s been a time or two with Zayn at two A.M. after a late surgery.

Louis shakes his head at her, rolling his eyes dotingly. “And how was I ever supposed to know that’s where he went, Aves?”

“Well I don’t know, Louis.” Avery shrugs again, biting back a small laugh. “I thought you’d just bump into him or something like in the movies.”

“You’re a silly, silly girl.”

“Maybe so, but you love me anyway.”

“I do...” Louis’ smile only grows on his face, eyes crinkling. “I love you.”

“And I love you too. Now _leave!”_ Avery urges again, pointing towards the door.

Louis can’t help but laugh to himself, starting to turn away and pausing midway. “Wait, how do I look?” He does a little spin just for her. The suit may not have been planned, but he still needs the complete outfit approval of his little opinionated stylist.

She surprisingly doesn’t rush him away this time, instead waving Louis closer with the beckoning of her hand. Louis walks across the room to her and she reaches up to straighten out his apparently crooked tie. She flattens her hands by the lapels of his jacket and leans up to sweetly kiss his cheek. “Perfect.”  

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Avery nods, both of her dimples peeking at her cheeks. “Good luck, Louis.”

This time when Louis leaves, he doesn’t come back a few minutes later, instead making his way down to the main level floor in search of Harry. He’s got butterflies in his stomach, nerves bubbling up inside him, but at the same time Louis has never felt more determined in his life. He feels _ready_.

He runs out of the sliding hospital doors in a rush, turning his head right then left as he tries to remember which way that little gelato place is from this side of the hospital. He hasn’t been in a while and it’s hard to think back and remember details like that when all he can focus on is Harry, having a one-track mind. Louis choses to go right in a snap decision, taking off down the courtyard and avoiding the occasional pedestrian or nurse pushing a patient in a wheelchair.

And maybe it’s a bit serendipitous, if not ironic, that Louis does actually bump right into Harry as Avery envisaged he would, colliding with each other at the blind turning of a corner.

“Oh, shit—” Harry startles, dropping the tub of light pink gelato ceremoniously to the concrete at his feet. He hasn’t even looked up yet, seeming a bit flustered as he slides a hand through his windswept curls, mumbling to himself under his breath about how he’ll have to go back to the shop.

“Harry...” Louis slowly exhales, reaching out to steady Harry instinctively.

Harry’s head snaps up, clearly recognizing the sound of Louis’ voice and when their eyes meet, Harry visibly deflates with heavy relief, looking as though he can finally begin to breathe freely again, and Louis feels exactly the same way. He doesn’t even say anything, moving right in to surround himself around Louis completely, no longer giving a fuck about the spilled gelato.

Louis relaxes into the embrace, burying his head to Harry’s neck only to be calmed by the distinctive smell of his saccharinely scented skin. He could stay just like this forever and be perfectly content, wonderfully at ease.

“Louis, you’re ok—well—are you ok?” Harry abruptly pulls back and searches Louis’ eyes in question, the frequency of his voice bathed in uneasiness. “I thought something happened to you—I’ve been so worried about you but I…I didn’t want to suffocate you or pressure you or I don’t know—I mean I—”

“I’m sorry, H, I’m sorry.” Louis rushes to say before anything else. “I shouldn’t have run off like that…without saying anything, I’m…I…I’m sorry…”

Harry shakes his head gently, a curl flopping down over his face. “It’s alright, I’m just glad you’re ok...” He gradually unwraps his arms from around Louis, seeming to suddenly be aware of how tightly he was holding him. “Where did you go? Niall said you were speaking at a conference…but he didn’t know if you went or not…”

Louis doesn’t even know where to start; it’s unbelievable how much he’s experienced since he decided to go on his little adventure. “I uh…well…I delivered a baby? In the back of my car? Yeah…there was a…um…car accident and I was there? I don’t know why I was there really, but I was and…god, it happened in the middle of nowhere and the girl—Frankie, she…I don’t know—she looked kinda like you? And I guess I reminded her of her husband…it was really fucking strange, but…I…I don’t know…the whole thing just kinda woke me up, I guess? Cuz I was…well—I was in a place? You know? Just like a really dark and confusing place…trying to understand myself and what I want…but…” Louis shakes his head at a loss, still a bit confused and frazzled by the whole experience. “But out there I…I delivered a baby? A _baby_? And I know I’m not making any sense—I know and I’m sorry—but I’m uh…I’m trying my best so bear with me please...”

Harry stands patiently with a gentle expression. If he’s confused by the rambled words coming out of Louis’ mouth, he doesn’t at all show it, eyes remaining nothing but soft.

Louis briefly touches his own cheek only to find that it’s already wet. “Oh fuck— _god_ and now I’m crying—it’s a thing I do now. I cry. I cry, and I cry, and _I cry…_ it’s like a whole new me.” Louis swipes at his eyes, sniffling as he shakes his head to move on. “But whatever, just ignore that—anyway I’ve been thinking…probably a bit too much actually, but I uh I realized a lot of things…like about you and about um me— _us_. And there’s so much I need to tell you, so much I want to say, and I haven’t and ugh—I’m rambling now and I’m not making any sense…” He groans, growing more and more upset with himself, feeling his speech start to pick up its pace, an awful habit he has when he’s nervous. “I’m shit at this. Just right fucking shit. I practiced this all in the car, you know? Yeah… the whole drive back from Oregon. I thought about everything I wanted to say to you and I went over it out loud and in my mind—the right words, the perfect words are somewhere in my head and now I’m fucking it up. _Fuck_ …”

Harry gazes at him, tilting his head supportively. “It’s ok Lou, take your time. We have time—”

“But that’s just it! What if we _don’t_ have time, Harry!” Louis panics, voice picking up once again in both speed and frequency. “What if we’ve wasted all of our time playing stupid games? Letting fear and uncertainty keep us apart? And…and now! It’s not promised! Life is not promised! And it’s not enough time! It’s not! It’ll never be enough time with you!”

“Louis, stop. Stop, it’s ok.” Harry tenderly touches his palm to Louis’ cheek to calm him back down. “Just talk to me, babe. What are you saying?”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E6PmCym6eF4&index=7&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVtl_5WFZR5Jw4wRWtG-W_MD)

Louis gazes at Harry openly and the charge between them grows, passion flooding into his bones like blood to his veins. His chest is heaving every time he breathes, rising and falling at a steadily hastening rate and _god_ , he feels so much for the man standing before him. This beautiful, beautiful man—beautiful like Louis has never seen, like he could have never imagined. Louis looks into the gorgeous green of Harry’s gentle eyes and lets whatever is left of his mighty walls cave in, allowing his whole heart to become completely exposed.

“I want to be yours.” Louis whispers earnestly in the still wind, like the very first words of a lifelong love letter. “And I want you to be mine.”

Harry blinks back at him in silent earnest, seeming to be almost holding his breath.

“I want to have brunch together on Saturdays because you’re right, Sundays are seriously far too cliché.” Louis starts, lips slowly spreading into a smile. “And I want to randomly throw all of our shit in a car and go on a spontaneous trip to god knows where for no reason at all—just because we can and we want to.”

Harry’s lips part as he gasps quietly, a wave of emotions already breaking through his face, seeming absolutely stunned by the familiar sentiments coming out of Louis’ mouth.

“I want a whole collection of weird birthday traditions that maybe don’t make sense to the rest of the world, but make perfect sense to us, so fuck the rest of the world.” Louis continues, keeping his eyes trained only on Harry. “And I want to dance in the moonlight and have the world just be ours for the night. I want to waste hours at a time in bed together doing absolutely nothing but those silly crossword puzzles from the Sunday paper while drinking coffee and eating eggs on toast. I want to take long, late night drives with you and talk all night while we watch the sun rise and I then I want to go right back out in the evening and watch the sun set while holding your hand. I want huge, ridiculously over the top Christmases with all the trimmings and traditions—so festive that it’s literally shooting out of our asses.” Louis grins knowingly and Harry let’s out a watery laugh, biting his lip as tears pour down his cheeks.

Louis takes another step closer to Harry, reciting more things from Harry’s Someday List that he long ago committed to memory. “I want to keep dating even when we’ve been together and married for decades because there is always something new I can learn about you. I want to fall more and more in love with you each and every day.” He declares, speaking straight from his heart. “And I want _kids_ , lots and lots of kids—our kids that we love to death and embarrass all the time. I want a big family and a house that never feels empty because it’s filled with so much love and the sound of tiny feet running around everywhere. I want photo album after photo album of us and our family and our beautiful life together and I want to be able to look back on all of it and smile when we are old and grey and senile and can barely see straight anymore.” He describes, unable to keep the wet, emotional smile from his face as he says it. “I…I want a _life_ with you, Harry.”

“Oh L-Louis…” Harry whispers through his heavy tears, mouth held open in breathless wonderment. He shakes his head incredulously as he closes the last bit of space separating them. “All these years and you never forgot a single thing.”

“I could never forget because I want it all—every single last thing on that list and anything else you can think of. I’ve wanted to give all that to you since the very first time you told me on that day we spent in our meadow. I hate that it took me so long to say it, but I want it and I want it with you—only you. I want to be your love.” Louis confesses from the very core of his trembling heart, tears matching the ones on Harry’s face. “All I want is a full life with you and I’ve been so afraid to admit that up until now b-because I didn’t think it could ever really happen…but I…I w-want it, Harry…I want it so m-much. Even though part of me is still a-afraid, I want it more than I want a-anything else.”

Harry cups both of his hands gently to Louis’ cheeks, thumbing at the saltwater trails that continue to flow down his face. “Why are you afraid, Lou?”

“I think I’m j-just…I don’t know—I’m afraid sometimes that I…I love you too much. As fucking stupid as that sounds. I look at you and I…I just _love_ you and it fucking t-terrifies me. I would do anything for you and it scares the living shit out of me because i-if there is one constant in my life it’s that I can never k-keep anything that I love—I always end up l-losing them. And if…if I love you t-too much and I let you in completely only to l-lose you…I..I was a-afraid of what might h-happen.” Louis cries, as that feeling comes over him again, the same feeling he felt on the roof the other day. But he pushes it aside, focusing on the tenderness in Harry’s eyes and the feel of his soft hands to his face, finding so much newfound strength in it. “But I realized—or I’m s-starting to realize that I also love you too much to ignore it a-anymore. To pass off my f-feelings for you, to n-not be with you…to not h-have you…to stay s-stuck in the p-past…to not f-forgive you…to p-pretend that I’m over you—I l-love you too much to give up on the chance to have t-that life with you…”

“And I’ve l-learned to keep people at an arm’s distance, you know? I p-push people away to protect myself a-and I tell myself that…t-that I can live w-without them—that I’ll be f-fine on my own b-but…but with y-you...I—the thought of pushing you a-away h-hurts so much m-more…and I…I fucking l-love you _too much_ …” Louis sobs openly, but it feels so good to get it off his chest, it feels cathartic to finally release all the emotions he has kept locked inside, to no longer hide away from them. “I t-told you that you make me f-fall apart…but really I d-don’t mind falling a-apart if you’re there to put me back t-together. Because…I…I…” His voice breaks right down the middle as continuous tears pull harshly at his eyes, shoulders shaking against the magnitude of his cries. “I l-love you too much, Harry...” He whispers with raw emotion, heart lying open and vulnerable. He shakes his head twice, wiping his eyes as he looks up and scuffs a bit at himself. “God, even hearing that—it sounds so s-stupid to say…”

“Oh baby, it’s not stupid, it’s not…I get it…” Harry whispers softly, still tracing the sides of his face as he shakes his head. He lovingly strokes away the tears on Louis’ wet cheeks, drying his eyes. “I get it because I love you just as much, Louis. I swear that I do—I _love_ you and I’m so terrified of ever having to live without you. You don’t know how much I need you...”

Harry slowly leans in to gently press his lips against Louis’, the initial feeling even more kinetic than the very first time. There’s a familiarity in the way they complement each other so perfectly, something so effortless and easy about how natural their lips slot together. It’s overwhelming in the softest of ways, in the way Harry tilts his jaw just so or in the way his tongue moves so smoothly against Louis’, gliding with purpose and practiced ease.

Louis can’t remember a time when a kiss has ever inspired him so. It’s a _revelation_ , the revitalizing taste of everything that is _Harry_ surrounding his every sense in a swirl of infinite colors like a kaleidoscope dream. And Louis is lost to it, completely letting himself go only to find parts he didn’t know had been adrift. Like realizing he’s been downing this entire time, only to be saved by taking in his first breath above water, finally coming up for much needed air.

“Damn that pager.” Harry groans breathlessly as they break apart. His lips are already puffed pink and Louis can hardly take his eyes off of them. He was so ridiculously lost that he didn’t even register the sound of his pager or feel it vibrate in his pocket.

Louis blinks as he snaps back to reality, tearing his eyes away from Harry’s perfect lips to look down at the ringer. He’s not even on-call right now so it’s either an emergency in his department or nothing direly important that someone else can handle. “It um…it does save lives, you know.” 

“I feel kind of selfish about saying this, but I really don’t care right now.” Harry doesn’t even give Louis a chance to really look at the page before kissing him again, powerless to control himself.

“You should be ashamed...” Louis mumbles to his lips, unable to pull himself away either. Harry’s mouth is a drug, sweet like candy and oh, so addictive. A single taste isn’t nearly enough, it only makes him crave more and more and _more_.  “…Someone needs me more than you right now...”

“That’s impossible.” Harry whispers before claiming Louis’ lips again as though he needs them to breathe. The way he kisses Louis is unprecedented and Louis doesn’t want to feel anything else. Only this, for as long as he lives, only this, only him.  

Louis pulls back to dig around in his back pocket for his keys. He slips a house key from the loop and places it inside Harry’s warm palm, holding his hand over it for a moment. “Go back to mine and wait for me.” 

“I’ve already got another key.” Harry smiles, biting his flushed lower lip as he looks down at his hand with a twinge of nostalgia.

Louis closes Harry’s hand around the key before separating from him. He slowly begins to walk backwards, smiling stupidly at Harry the whole time, a giddiness building up inside him that he’s never felt before. “Wait for me.”

“Yeah…” Harry nods slowly with an equally dumb smile on his face as he gazes on in longing and excitement at Louis. The energy between them is nothing but electrifying, the thrum that always lies latent under their skin, the subtle humming of dormant sparks, buzzing openly around them.

But Harry still can’t seem to control himself, unexpectedly closing the gap between them and pulling Louis back in for another hot kiss. Louis melts right into him, hands coming up to cup Harry’s face. Every time their lips connect it’s even more intoxicating, the sensation is new and exciting, but still edging on familiar and comfortable, like coming home.

“Hurry.” Harry murmurs breathlessly against his lips, desperation thickly covering his already deep voice. And the look in his eyes when he pulls back sends a fresh wave of unexpected shivers down Louis’ spine.

With his hands still resting on the sides of Harry’s face, Louis pulls Harry’s lips to his several times in quick succession; each short, but passionate kiss jolting his senses individually. The very last thing Louis wants to do right now is separate himself from Harry, the magnetic pull towards him is stronger than anything he could ever begin to explain or even understand.  

But the warm memory of this cherished moment and the promise of better ones still to come is what gets Louis to finally let Harry go and begin walking backwards once again towards the medical center. They’re both sporting the same dopey grin, so helplessly enthralled by each other.

“Wait for me, H…” Louis repeats again for the third time, only because his brain can’t possible think of anything else to say; head so high in the clouds.

“What else am I going to fucking do?” Harry smiles broadly, all deep dimples and windblown curls and gorgeous teeth and Louis doesn’t even realize he’s stopped walking altogether just to look at him, taking in just how beautiful he really is. But Louis is snapped out of his trance by Harry impatiently shooing him away, a lot like another Styles he knows.

“Faster Louis, go faster!” Harry urges in an almost frustrated tone. Sexually frustrated most likely, after all, it is nearly ten years in the making.

“Ok, ok!” Louis laughs a little, tugging his bottom lip through his teeth.

“I can’t wait forever—I mean I can, of course I can, but I’d really rather not.” Harry sighs in lustful yearning, shameless eyes rooming over Louis in a way that definitely wasn’t meant to be done in public. “God, Louis…that suit…” He whines in desperation, he actually fucking _whines_ and Louis can hardly take it, feeling utterly weak and powerless. “Please go before I can’t let you go anymore…I want you right now…”

And Louis swears to all the surgical gods that he is only one second from saying fuck it to all his medical responsibilities and letting his pager be damned to hell, when that same pager begins to sound off again, indicating that maybe it is actually an emergency of some sorts that needs his immediate attention. Or it could be Frankie, now that he thinks about it and if it is, then he really does need to go.

“I’ll be quick, I promise.” Louis calls as he begins jogging backwards, forcing his legs to move against their will away from Harry.

“Come home to me as fast as you can.”


	18. eighteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR7yXYtGmwZ9-1Ev-Jk3Xs)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my dear, dear friends,  
> let me start out by saying I am SO SORRY for this ugly ass delay, I have been have a Time. but! thank you to all of you for still being patient and sending me so many sweet messages of encouragement and compliments. I love you all soooooo much.
> 
> so from the author who brought you a 47k first chapter, here is a 55k final chapter. and you're probably thinking, lex, you dumb avocado why are doing the most for no reason?? well friends, i just had to give them the happiness they were long overdue. and the happiness that you all are long overdue. I know you all have be waiting rip
> 
> oh before I forget this is a 'they kind of share that' scenario, both bl and bh so there's that for all of you who need to know in advance
> 
> anyway! this story means a lot to me, i put a lot of myself in it, more than usual, any way. it was an emotional roller coaster to write and I can imagine it’d also be to read, but I do hope you’ve enjoyed it and im soooo thankful for all of you who waited and read it as WIP cuz y'all are brave af that's truly turmoil, but you did it and I love you for it.
> 
> anyway I've wrote on authors note to match the length of this update and I'm done blabbing, I hope you enjoy this final chapter friends!
> 
> love you! if you want to chat or anything, you can come find me on tumblr [@avocadolouie](http://avocadolouie.tumblr.com)
> 
> lex .x

_like only you can_.

 

||✚||

 

“Sorry I took so long, Munchie.” Harry apologizes as soon as he walks into her hospital room, carrying a fresh tub of strawberry gelato. “I accidently dropped your gelato and I had to go back and—”

“Did he tell you?!” Avery bursts, hazel eyes opened wide with urgency as she sits all the way up in her bed.

Harry frowns, wheeling the tray table towards the bed before sitting down on the edge near her. “Did who tell me what?”

“Louis!”

“Louis what?”

“Did Louis tell you!?” Avery practically screams at him.

“Tell me what?” Harry plays dumb again, opening the lid of the gelato container and sticking two spoons in it. “Are you gonna make me eat all this by myself? I worked so hard to get it for you, Avie.”

 _“Daddy_!” Avery throws her head back in absolute frustration and it makes Harry’s heart full because she looks exactly like her mother when she scrunches up her features like that. It reminds Harry of all the many times he would purposely annoy his sister and all the times she would react just as Avery is now.

“Avery!” Harry mimics back, copying her disgruntled face, trying not to let his lips morph into a smile.

“Did Louis tell you he _loves_ you!” Avery emphasizes with raised eyebrows and adorably bugged out eyes.

Harry holds his face frozen for several moments, just staring back into Avery’s eyes as stoically as he can manage. But not only is Avery adorable, she’s also quite the stare down master and before he knows it, a smile slowly creeps across his face.

His smile seems to be all the confirmation Avery needs and she breaks out into a smile of her own, clapping her hands together in delight. “He did!”

She’s far more excited about this than Harry expected her to be and he has no idea how she always seems to be two steps ahead of him. “How did you know he was going to tell me that?”

“Because I know things.” Avery answers obviously. She reaches for one of the spoons, scooping out a big pink chunk before gasping with what must be an idea of hers. “You should go make him dinner!”

“I should?”

“Yes, Daddy  _yes_. That’s what any good boyfriend would do.”

“But Louis isn’t my boyfriend. Yet.” Harry adds, digging his own spoon deeper into the creamy gelato.

“Maybe he would be if you made him dinner.” Avery sasses. “Make it really, really, _reaaalllyy_ nice and surprise him. He’ll love it.”

“You think so?” Harry considers.

“Mhmm, I know so.” Avery nods confidently.

Harry grins warmly. “And how’s that, Avie?”

“Because I know things, Daddy. I told you.” Avery tilts her chin up. “I’m grown.”

“Oh Avery, my sweet little girl, you’re so silly.” Harry gently pecks her nose.

She points her spoon at him. “I’m also right.”

Harry narrows his eyes, still grinning. “Alright missy, since you know _everything_ , what should I make for him then?”

“Something impressive.” 

“Impressive like what? Spaghetti?”

“Spaghetti is the opposite of impressive, Daddy.” Avery turns her nose up disapprovingly. “It’s basic. I can make spaghetti and I’m in 2nd grade.”

Harry laughs. “But I love your spaghetti.”

“This isn’t about me! If I made Louis spaghetti, it’d be impressive. If you did it, it’d be lame.” She explains knowledgably all while sucking on her spoon.

“I see.” Harry nods, smiling. “Well help me then Avery! What should I make?”

“Something that sounds really super fancy.” Avery describes slowly, still thinking to herself. “Something that when you tell him what you made, Louis will be like… _ooh_?” She raises an eyebrow and sounds distinctly similar to Louis in an odd way.

Harry laughs a bit, completely amused. “Is that how he’ll sound? _Ooh_?”

“Exactly like that.” Avery nods certainly in all seriousness. “And that’s how you’ll know you’ve won him over.”

He laughs once again, shaking his head fondly at his daughter’s advice. “I really don’t know what to do with sometimes, silly girl.”

  

||☤||

 

Louis’ page turns out to be a rupturing aneurysm in a patient just emitted into the E.R. and he happened to be the only neurosurgeon on grounds not currently busy with other patients. And even though clipping aneurysms is probably his least favorite surgery to perform, Louis goes through the whole procedure with a giddy grin behind his mask and a steady, excited thrum butterflying in his stomach.

Truthfully, Louis can’t recall the last time he was this genuinely excited about someone, about all the possibilities that could potentially come next for them. Everything is basically suspended in limbo and it’s all new and unknown and even though it’s a bit of a daunting realization, Louis still can’t help but be even more anticipative. All he wants to do is rush straight home, but unfortunately, he still has a few responsibilities to attend to first.

After the surgery, Louis quickly rounds on the rest of his patients, swinging by Frankie’s room last to do a quick assessment of her post-op progress and make sure she’s settling in alright. He finds her asleep, which isn’t at all surprising considering that she is not only recovering from surgery, but she also just gave birth only days ago.

Which leads Louis to his last stop, down at the NICU to check on his newborn godson. He peeks his head through the archway that leads to the silent, dimly lit space, filled with little premature babies. The only sound is the ventilating machines around them whirling and beeping methodically.

Niall is sat on a wheeled stool, draped in a soft pink gown as he monitors his infant patients. When he lifts his head and notices Louis approaching, he jumps right to his feet in surprise, a million questions on his lips. “Louis, what are you doing here? When did you get back? Where were you? I was so worried—”

“Shh.” Louis hushes, trying to honor the sanctity of the NICU’s silence and peace. He walks passed Niall towards the clear incubator that holds the tiny, sleeping little boy that Louis helped bring into the world.

Niall follows in confusion, watching Louis closely. “Where have you been? Were you at the conference this whole time?”

“Mm…uh…I’ll tell you later.” Louis whispers distractedly, still in a state of transfixed awe over the baby. “Look at how cute my godson is.”

“Your _what_?!” Niall gasps in genuine surprise.

“Shh!” Louis silences again. “You’re too loud.”

“Louis, where the hell did you get a godson? Whose baby is that? _Louis_? Where have you been?”

“It’s a really long story, I’ll tell you everything later I promise.” Louis says, turning towards him fully. “Hey, are you on-call tonight?”

“Yeah…” Niall nods, expression still riddled in absolute bewilderment as he begins logging back in to his tablet. “Why?”

 “Could you monitor Avery for me another night? And also sit with her a bit if she wakes up or gets bored or lonely or—”

“Lonely? Why, where’s Harry?” Niall’s frown deepens, and he glances up briefly in question. “Is he going to L.A. again for work or something?”

“Erm…not exactly…” Louis shrugs offhandedly, backing away toward the door. 

“Tommo, are you finally getting some?” Niall jokes halfheartedly, not even bothering to look up from his chart this time. 

“U-Uh…mmm...” Louis stutters in a flustered kind of way, feeling his cheeks uncontrollably flush. “Uh _noo_ —I d-don’t know um? We haven’t…I haven’t—”

“What the _fuck_!” Niall’s jaw drops, head snapping up to look at Louis’ guilty face. “Oh, no way! Are you kidding me? What happened!? Did you talk to him! Did you tell him you’re in love with him? Oh my god, you _did_! I need details—I need—” 

“Shut up!” Louis hushes, slapping a hand over Niall’s loud mouth as he looks around the NICU. A few nurses narrow their eyes at them oddly for making such a ruckus in what should be a tranquil space. “There are innocent little babies sleeping and healing.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Niall whisper shouts, leaning in closer, hardly containing his giddiness. “But! You fuck off to god knows where for days on end and then you come back and suddenly—I don’t know! Are you and Harry, like…? A thing now? A _couple_!?”

“I don’t know what we are but…” Louis shrugs coyly, offering a telling smile in place of a solid answer.

“Are you serious!?” Niall bursts again, apparently unable to retain or quiet his excited energy. “So what did you say to him? Was it dramatic? Did he cry? Did _you_ cry? Of course you did, you’re like a full on crybaby now—oh my god, I can’t believe you finally did it! I’m so proud—”

“Shh!” Louis yanks Niall by the V of his scrub top and starts pulling him out of the intensive care unit to the open hall. The nurses are glaring at them with unamused faces the entire time and the last thing either of them want to do is piss off the nurses because they’ve woken up all of the babies in the NICU. “What kind of kid doctor are you?!”

“So are you going to do it?” Niall leans in wiggling his eyebrows and ignoring Louis’ question completely. “ _Please_ tell me you’re finally going to fuck each other. Because, Louis, honestly enough is enough—the sexual tension between you and Harry nearly chokes me. I get burned if I stand too close to you two.”

“Niall, god…you’re such a child.” Louis rolls his eyes, sighing. “And a horrid gossip.”

“I just want the answers I’m entitled to. I haven’t watched this sob story for the past nine years of my life to not get answers.”

Louis gives Niall a mischievous look, leaning in a bit. “You know what’s better than sex?”

“Nothing?” Niall ponders with a frown.

“Anticipation.” Louis winks as he spins on his heel and starts to walk away.

“I hate you.” Niall grumbles, sighing.

“Thank you for monitoring Avery for me!” Louis calls cheerfully over his shoulder as he giddily struts down the hall. “I love you, Ni!”

“I want details, Tomlinson! The whole story! From start to finish!” Niall hollers down the hallway with a cupped hand over his mouth as Louis pushes out of the double doors of the Peds Floor. “I expect a full report and—ok, right. Good talk. Have fun, be safe!”

“Thanks, Dad.”

||☤||

  

When Louis finally gets home, Benedict doesn’t come running to the front door to greet him as he always does and that can only mean that he’s happily reunited with his other favorite person. And Louis doesn’t know why, but just the simple thought of that tugs his lips into a small smile.

Louis shrugs out of his jacket as well as his suit blazer, rolling up the white sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows. He sort of wants to change out of his suit completely, but he’s also far more interested in finding Harry, just wanting to see him again.

“Harry?” Louis calls as he creeps deeper into his house. It smells absolutely amazing, an aroma of fresh herbs and spices wafting through the halls from the kitchen and it’s the first time all day that Louis realizes how hungry he actually is. And come to think of it, Louis can’t even recall the last real meal he ate in the last thirty-six hours that wasn’t an energy bar or some form of caffeine.

“Har—oh my god.” Louis gasps in surprise as he shuffles past the dining room, greeted by a perfectly set table. A table that, for the record, he has probably used properly only once since he started as an intern a decade ago. But now there’s a bouquet of fresh cut flowers displayed in a crystal vase and candles lit along the table, giving the space a warm, romantic glow.

Harry walks in from the kitchen carrying a dish in both his hands. As Louis expected, Benny is right at his heels, wagging his tail as he trails after Harry’s every move. Harry sets the lidded dish down on the table before straightening himself back out.

“Hi.” Harry blushes, meeting Louis’ eyes.  

“Hi…” Louis whispers back, still a bit caught off guard. “What is all this?”

“I was literally losing my mind waiting for you so...”

“You made me dinner?” Louis adjusts his gaze from the table to Harry’s face.

“Chicken piccata.” Harry lifts the lid of the dish he just set down on the table and it looks unequivocally perfect, like a gourmet meal. And Louis can’t believe all the trouble Harry must have gone through to do all of this for him so quickly. “It was Avery’s idea really. She told me I had to impress you.”

Louis’ smile turns into a fond laugh. “That girl.”

“She’s ridiculous, I know. But she also gives the best suggestions.” Harry smiles slowly, clasping his hands together behind his back as though he doesn’t know what to do with them. “You know you have no food in your fridge. Literally just alcohol and rotting take out boxes.” 

Louis shakes his head regretfully. “I’m aware, yeah.”

“So, I went shopping and yeah… I made dinner.” Harry shrugs a little, hands still behind his back in slightly nervous kind of way. 

Louis walks further into the room, closing some of the distance between them. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” Harry smiles softly and the way he looks at Louis is so intent, like he’s peering right into Louis’ soul.

A blush of his own creeps up Louis’ neck, so he looks down at the table again. But looking at all the effort Harry put towards making this evening perfect for them, blows Louis away yet again and he doesn’t even know what to say next. “This is so sweet of you, Harry. Really, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry’s smile brightens even more, which cause his gorgeous dimples to make an appearance. And Louis can’t, for the life of him, stop staring at him, finding him just so enrapturing. “I um…I did forget wine though.” 

“Well lucky for us, I do have a pretty impressive collection of unimpressive wine in the basement.” Louis offers with a light chuckle. “I wouldn’t drink it with anyone else but you, _and_ I bet some of them might even be aged to drinkable decency by now.”

And so they enjoy a candlelit dinner together, sat adjacently next to each other at one end of the large table. It’s delicious, of course it’s delicious. As long as Louis has known Harry, he’s been an amazing cook. Louis didn’t even realize how much he missed the little things about Harry, like how he used to cook for him all the time.

When they finish eating, the room falls suddenly quiet, the kind of quiet that becomes more noticeably obvious the longer it passes. Like the adjustment period has passed and now all the attention has shifted from the food and small talk and is suddenly on the fact that they are alone. Alone together. Alone together and both well aware of each other’s feelings.

There’s a charged tension in the air, riddled with nerves and sexual confusion as to what they’re next move should be. They haven’t so much as touched hands since Louis confessed his entire soul to Harry in front of the hospital. It’s obvious that they’re both itching to rekindle the fiery spark between them, pick up right where they left off and start testing the waters…but it’s _weird_. Not a bad weird or anything, just weird in the sense that this relationship is both new and old at the same time and neither of them seem to know where to fucking start.

And Harry is fidgeting—literally fidgeting uncontrollably like a little kid, looking so young and boyish as he squirms around in his seat. One second he’s shuffling his feet around under the table, next he’s picking at the hem of his jumper, then he’s twisting his rings off and on his long fingers, only to start the whole song and dance all over again. He just can’t sit still and truthfully, he hasn’t been able to all night since Louis first set foot in the dining room.

“Are you nervous?” Louis wonders quietly, glancing towards Harry.

“I’m just—I uh…yes.” Harry admits, cheeks flourishing in flushed shades of red.

“I’m making you nervous.” Louis grins, tilting his head as he continues to watch Harry closely.

Harry’s blush only darkens, coloring his entire face. He sets down his wine glass and turns his body more towards Louis. “Yes, cuz well—it’s _you.”_

“Exactly it’s just me, you know me.” Louis murmurs, closing a bit of the space separating them by leaning in towards Harry.

Harry timidly nods his head, nibbling on his lower lip. “I know but I…god—I feel like a teenager—you make me feel like a fucking teenager. Sitting next to you…being here again...it’s actually happening—I can’t get used to the fact that this is really happening, and I can’t stop thinking about how ridiculously gorgeous and pretty you are—I mean,  _fuck,_ look at you…you’re just…breathtaking...” He exhales in a way of longing as he looks to Louis once more. “And I can’t stop squirming because I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to touch you again and kiss you again—but then it just makes me so nervous all over again because I’m not just attracted to you, I love you—I actually full on _love_ you and I’ve never felt like this about anyone and I don’t want to mess things up for us, I want everything to be perfect and—”

Louis kisses him, deciding to just take the plunge, refusing to waste another second as he catches Harry’s lips with his own, stopping his rambling. Louis can feel just how tense Harry is under his touch, pulse racing. It’s a bit of an odd realization because despite how long they’ve known each other, this is still new uncharted territory for them. There’s so much more pressure than if they were to have just met. “You’re really cute when you ramble.”

Harry smiles a little, looking slightly more at ease than a moment before. “The last time I felt this nervous about someone…it was with you, years ago...”

“I’m nervous too.” Louis admits in a whisper, foreheads held towards each other.

“You don’t look nervous at all.”

Louis takes one of Harry’s hands and places it right over his rapidly beating heart. “I’m dead nervous, honestly.”

Harry pulls back enough to really search Louis’ eyes, a slight trace of uncertainty lining the green of his irises. “But not the bad kind of nervous, right? The scared, _this-is-a-bad-fucking-idea_ kind of nervous?”

“No…no, never…” Louis closes the small space between them and kisses Harry again, slow and soft and reassuring. The trepidation is understandable given their history and Louis knows Harry is overly worried about somehow hurting him again. “It’s more like the  _holy-shit-this-is-actually-happening_ kind of nervous.”

Harry grins slowly.  “Yeah…”

Louis sits up then, glancing down at his watch briefly before standing up to his feet. “Hey, I have an idea.”

Harry frowns in complete confusion as Louis proceeds to take one of his hands to drag him up to his feet without any more elaboration. Harry seems to be so caught off guard, he ends up just following Louis from the living room to the hallway and right out of the front door of the house without protest. “Wait—but Louis, where are we going?”

Louis smiles gently, pausing to bring Harry’s hand to his lips. “You’ll see.”

 

||✚||

 

They’re almost completely out of breath, slightly buzzed from the ridiculously cheap wine aerating through their systems as they tumble after each other uphill, following along a dewy path well known by their feet. So familiar, it’s like a muscle memory the way their legs just know where to go, where to step next. Harry could close his eyes right now and trust that the next time he opens them, he would be standing in the center of their special meadow.

Although Harry still doesn’t have the faintest idea why Louis suddenly decided to drag them both up here, but he’s repeatedly asked him as much. Each time Louis only answers with a knowing smile or the reassuring brush of his thumb along Harry’s palm where their hands are linked together, refusing any sort of verbal answer. But Harry can’t rightly complain, not when it’s such a lovely spring night outside and he’s holding the hand of such a beautiful boy.

The moon is out tonight, glowing clear and luminescent in the open midnight sky. And as entrancing and awe-inspiring as the moon is tonight, Harry finds himself even more captivated by how the full gleam strikingly catches every bright hue in Louis’ eyes as though he’s simply made of stardust.

“Lou, are you going to tell me why we are up here now?”

“Just one sec, H...” Louis tosses over his shoulder, giving Harry’s hand another reassuring squeeze. He is completely resolute in his determination to pull Harry to a particular spot in the vast field of rolling grass, a spot that only he seems to know.

Harry follows along easily, grinning as an unexpected excitement comes over him. He would follow Louis anywhere, he’d follow him right off of the edge of a cliff if Louis asked it of him and Harry wouldn’t even think twice about it.

They get to a spot in the field that is in prime view of the moon. It’s the perfect spot really, giving off the wonderous illusion that they are somehow closer to the stars above. It hardly even looks real, majestic and breathtaking, like something right out of a dream.

Louis finally turns around to fully face Harry, unlacing their fingers as he takes in a deep breath. And then he smiles, an adorably shy but still hopeful and so very beautiful smile and Harry honestly couldn’t tear his eyes away from him if he tried.

“Ok, so I’m nervous—obviously…and um I know you’re nervous too but…I thought maybe we could come up here and start checking things off of our list. Why waste any more time, right?” Louis chews on his lower lip, fidgeting a bit with his hands. “You said that you wanted to dance to the song, _Dancing in the Moonlight_ , but I’m going to do you one better. That’s why we’re up here, really…” His voice is thoughtful as he looks up at the open sky above them in quiet awe. “Because the moon is so gorgeous tonight and it’d be a shame to waste it and….and I don’t know…I thought that you might like to dance under the actual moonlight while dancing to _Dancing in the Moonlight_ —wow, that’s a fucking mouthful, isn’t it?” Louis sort of offers a small laugh, but it’s masked by pure nerves. “I’m bloody rambling again, aren’t I? _Shit_ …”

It’s the sweetest gesture, causing Harry’s lips to spread into a deeply dimpled smile while his heart begins to flutter in his chest as though suddenly sprouting wings of its own.

“Right well, enough of that then.” Louis properly clears his throat, inclining his head towards Harry with his palm outstretched in question. And there’s that smile again, the one that makes Louis’ eyes begin to crease at their corners, the one that never fails to make Harry’s stomach do complete somersaults. “Harry Styles, would you care to dance with me, love?”

And he’s staring, Harry knows he’s staring at Louis, but how could he possibly look away from him when Louis is looking at him like _that_ , like nothing else could even begin to matter more to him. Like the gorgeous stars above, Louis is a thing of dreams, a vision of absolute wonder. The way he makes Harry feel with only a smile, only a look, only a sweet, nervous gesture, is an experience so rare and utterly breathtaking, Harry continually hopes to god he’s not dreaming.

Harry is nodding his head repeatedly before finding the words to speak, and he just knows he has the fondest, most ridiculous expression painted across his face. But he can’t fucking help it and he doesn’t fucking care because he’s so endeared, so _in love,_ and all he wants is for Louis to know it.  

“I’d love nothing more.” Harry finally answers softly, taking Louis’ proffered hand in his own.

If Harry thought Louis’ initial, nerve-riddled smile was everything, the one he gives Harry next is nothing short of extraordinary, leaving Harry spellbound. He looks bashfully to Louis as the classic 70s’ song that Harry used to listen to on a loop, the song he always envisioned as the perfect song to fall in love to, starts to play from Louis’ phone.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5JqPxmYhlo&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR7yXYtGmwZ9-1Ev-Jk3Xs)

And they dance. They dance like there is no one else on the earth apart from the two of them, like time doesn’t exist, like nothing else exists. They dance and they laugh, all while bathed under the welcomed, gentle glow of the moon. While held close in each other’s arms, the nerves seem to float right away with the gentle breeze swirling around their bodies.

There is only them and this moment and not a thing else.

Who knows how many times people throughout the years have said that the world always seems to stop when they’re with the person they love, it’s so commonly said, it almost becomes a throwaway sentiment after a while. But Harry feels something opposite from that; his world hasn’t stopped, it’s finally turning as it should, finally filled with life. It’s brighter and richer when looking at it through the spectrum of Louis’ eyes, sharpened into focus. The vibrancy and fullness Harry feels is unparalleled, unprecedented by any other relationship of the past. Will it always be like this when they’re together, even when time has had its effects, when they’re older, wiser, greyer? Right now, they’re in the beginning, the start of a new chapter together, blank pages upon blank pages, empty lines waiting to be written, and Harry can’t wait to see how much brighter and fuller his life can become with Louis at his side.  

This whole thing, dancing in an open field, illumed only by the moon is so spontaneous and unexpected, but still so very romantic and sweet and thoughtful, far exceeding any expectation Harry could have ever had when he first envisioned it as a part of his quixotic hopes for his future self. Harry’s initial list of someday hopes and dreams have taken on a new form since he met Louis a decade ago. Louis breathes life into Harry’s dreams, life Harry couldn’t have ever imagined, translating his hopes from more than just wishes and dreams, but into realities he never thought would happen.

They dance long after the song fades, still wrapped up in one another’s arms, slowed feet still swaying to a rhythm synchronized to the beat of their racing hearts. Breathless and enamored, they gaze into each other’s eyes, magnetized by the gravity of their growing emotions. Harry’s eyes flick down to Louis’ lips, now only a small breadth away from his own. Louis lifts his jaw upwards and moves in the rest of the way, locking their lips together in a slow kiss.

Harry cradles Louis’ cheeks with both of his hands as their slow kiss gradually begins to grow more passionate. And they each get so lost in it, lost in the moment, lost in each other and it’s not long before they soon tumble down together against the soft bed of grass, giggling happily in between gentle kisses, any and all residual nerves between them dissipated.

Lying together on their sides along the cool, damp grass, legs intertwined and slotted together interchangeably, feels so easy, so natural. There’s such a relaxed air to them now, in how their mouths move against each other, in how their hands roam across the clothed curves if each other’s bodies. It’s unhurried and languid, no sense of urgency. They’re just making out like horny teenagers on a school night and yet Harry could lie right here in this very spot, under the moon, kissing Louis for days and nights on end and not do a thing else and still consider his time wonderfully well spent.

Louis shifts from his side, rolling over until he’s lying on top of Harry, bracketing Harry’s hips with his knees as he deepens the kiss further. He pulls back slightly, face hovering right above Harry’s, so close that the ends of his fringe brush against Harry’s forehead. Harry gazes into the crystalline pool of Louis’ eyes, continually amazed by how very blue they still are even when there is hardly any light shining on them.

“I love you.” Louis whispers, his voice stays so soft and comforting, but strong in a way that makes Harry really feel his words.

Harry doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to hearing Louis tell him that, but he knows he will never grow tired of it. And there’s something so incredible about being able to freely express how much Louis means to him, to be able to be completely transparent about how deeply he cares for him. “I love you too.”

And Harry would tell Louis all day and night how much he loves him, just to keep that happily peaceful look on his face forever. Louis nuzzles his face towards Harry’s neck, leaving a few tender kisses near his ear before cuddling up against him.

“All those times we came up here and we could have been doing this.” Harry grins slowly, hands resting on Louis’ lower back, holding him close.

“What a waste.” Louis sighs against Harry’s exposed skin followed by a shiver, his entire body jolting against the steady wind that’s beginning to pick up as it breezes through the grassy field.

“You’re cold, aren’t you?” Harry asks, already knowing the answer. He’s not wearing a jacket at all, only a thin white dress shirt and he has a bit of a track record of getting cold easily.

“I maybe didn’t think this all the way through? It was a bit of a spur of the moment kind of thing.” Louis laughs, sitting up with his legs straddling Harry’s hips. He tucks both of his hands under his arms to retain some of his own body heat. “I probably should have grabbed a jacket or something before dragging you up here.”

Harry shakes his head fondly as he sits up as well, shrugging off his own sweater and dropping it over Louis’ head without further question or thought. “I’m running out of jumpers to give you.”

Louis laughs appreciatively, burrowing himself inside the warmth of the sweater before draping his arms around Harry’s neck as he sits comfortably in his lap. “In my defense, it is _really_ fucking cold up here and I didn’t expect it because it’s the middle of May.”

Harry grins, leaning in for a short kiss. “You really should know by now that it’s always cold at night.”

“Yeah, in the _winter_ , it’s supposed to be spring now.”

“Next time, we’ll bundle you up in a full winter parka just to be safe.” Harry teases.

“Well that’s no fun.” Louis frowns, snuggling half of his face all the way up to his nose into the neck of the sweater. “How am I going to steal your clothes if I already have my own?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” Harry smiles knowingly, still feeling Louis’ body quiver from the windchill. “But for now, we should probably get back inside before you freeze to death. My sweater can only do so much.”

 

||☤||

 

Even with Harry’s jumper engulfing him, Louis is shivering even more by the time they make it back to his house. Standing in the front entryway, Harry rubs his palms up and down Louis’ shoulders to warm him up and Louis curls up against him, trying to suck up the heat that seems to always be radiating from Harry’s body. How Harry manages to be a portable space heater all the time, Louis may never understand. But he’s enchanted by him regardless.

He lifts his head a bit to kiss the underside of Harry’s jaw, not with any sort or purpose, just a gentle brush of his lips to Harry’s skin. And his skin is so soft, the smell intoxicating just like his jacket, just like everything about him, all Louis wants to do is drown himself in it.

“Louis.” Harry calls quietly and Louis’ can feel the vibrations of his voice from where his lips are still pressed under his chin.

Louis straightens himself out to meet Harry’s eyes, both arms still circled around his midsection. And nothing more need even be said, both expressing the same thing in one single look.  

It’s hardly a second later when Harry determinedly crashes his lips to Louis’, like he just can’t stand the separation any longer. Louis opens his mouth and a quiet moan escapes him as Harry’s tongue slides against his own. There’s more intent behind it now, less easygoing than it was out in the field, both bolder. They move along with the kiss, tripping up the wide staircase, chasing after each other’s lips.

When they reach the second floor, tumbling onto the landing, Louis presses Harry’s back along the wall of the hallway. They’re breathing fast, moving faster, legs slotted together, leaving no space between their hips. Louis’ fingers rest on the tops of Harry’s hips, inching under his t-shirt. He bunches the material up Harry’s chest and over his head, dropping it carelessly to the floor, leaving his skin bare. Harry lulls his head to the side and gasps when Louis cups his palm over the constrained fabric of his jeans. He’s so reactive, letting out small groans under his breath and gentle sighs every time Louis lays a single finger on him, and it already has Louis wanting more and more of him.

Louis guides Harry into his bedroom by his hips, fingers curled to his beltloops. Harry hasn’t taken his mouth off of Louis’ neck, sucking persistently as his fingers begin to dip inside the back of his trousers. They fall onto the bed together, kissing passionately once again with Harry’s body lying over Louis’.  

And Louis doesn’t know why, but suddenly his mind is flooded by a sea of timestamped memories of all the times they’ve spent in this very room. Memories he didn’t expect to have, not right now. Early mornings when Harry would crawl in his bed and wake him up just to talk to him about nothing particular and late nights when they laughed and joked for hours at a time together. And it’s all mirrored with all the other early mornings and terribly late nights that they spent apart and Louis spent alone.

 _alone_.

Now Louis can’t stop thinking about how lonely this room has become, how isolated he’s felt in this very bed for so many long years. He never thought he would ever have Harry back, have Harry right back in his bed with him, holding him. And for whatever reason, it makes Louis surprisingly emotional, more emotional than he’s prepared to be. So many stupid unwelcome emotions that he doesn’t want right now, catching right up to him anyway.

Harry must immediately sense that something is wrong because he pulls back enough to study Louis’ face. “Hey…what’s wrong? Is it too fast?” He worries softly, single hand cupped to Louis’ rosy cheek. “We don’t have to do anything, Lou.”

Louis quickly shakes his head, attempting to push aside his impeding thoughts, but a few small tears persist regardless. It’s not that it’s too fast—he wants to be here with Harry, he does, he _really_ does, but the urge to cry is so close to overpowering him. His voice is wavering with a mix of rising feelings, but he continues shaking his head regardless. “Nothing—nothing’s w-wrong…I don’t know… it’s the new me, remember? I cry…”

Harry gently wipes a tear from his eye, nodding in understanding. “You cry.”

“Mhmm...” Louis nods, pressing his lips tightly together as he once again tries so hard to brush off whatever this is, trying to internally talk himself down from whatever mental break this is about to be. But his racing mind just _won’t_ let him, ceaselessly bombarding his entire thought process and he fucking hates this feeling, but he really can’t fight it. And it’s only seconds later when his face breaks completely, a choked sob splitting his features apart, spurring heavier tears from his eyes. So Louis drops his head and puts both of his hands over his face, feeling a bit embarrassed that he just can’t ever keep himself together.

“Oh Louis.” Harry sits up, gently pulling Louis up with him into his lap to cuddle him right to his naked chest. “Please tell me what’s wrong baby, just let me in. Talk to me.”

Louis shakes his head again, lowering his hands to look up at Harry. “It’s n-nothing—I’m sorry I’m—I promise I’m not trying to cry o-or upset you—I…I can’t c-control it and it’s just been so much recently w-with…with Avery and t-then you and…I don’t k-know…” He’s still shaking his head wildly, trying not to panic himself, but it might be too late.

Harry softly holds his hands to Louis’ his face, calming him as he thumbs away his tears. “Hey no. Don’t be sorry. Why would I be upset? I could never be mad at you for having feelings. You have every right to cry, I only want to comfort you…I want us to always be honest and open with each other…I want you to trust me.”

“I do t-trust you, Harry I do…I l-love you and I…I…” Louis lowers himself down to bury his head against Harry’s chest again, not evening knowing how he wants to finish that sentence.

But Harry doesn’t seem to need him to finish it, understanding without words, lips pressed to Louis’ temple as he just holds him. “It’s ok…I know…”

Both arms curled tightly around Harry’s waist, Louis breathes him in for several quiet moments, focusing on the presence he has, allowing it to begin to ground him. He’s not going to do this again, he’s not going to run away from himself or his emotions, hiding them deep within himself, so far down that he can pretend they don’t exist. They do exist and there is a history between them that maybe Louis needs to talk through a bit more. Process through the root of why he’s being barraged by on onslaught of heavy emotions right now, there has to be a reason for it. Harry just said he wants them to be open and honest with each other. And if he and Harry are going to do this and be together, they have to be able to address and verbalize all the emotions and feelings that got lost in translation while they were apart.

Louis continues breathing in and out slowly as he does an internal assessment on what exactly he’s feeling and how to express it to Harry in a way that doesn’t sound like complete garbled nonsense. After a few minutes, he decides to just speak honestly, saying whatever comes out first.

“I missed you s-so much H…” Louis murmurs barely at a whisper, breath stuttering around the words. It’s what he realizes that he feels the most, a lingering sense of loss over the time Harry wasn’t beside him, all the many times he sat in this very room alone, wishing he wasn’t. “And…I wished that you’d come back to me…every day I wished you were here more than anything…and I thought it would never happen…but now you really are here…with me…and…” He swipes under his eyes as a few more tears fall. “It’s just—that night…t-that night you came in here...I don’t know…I can’t stop thinking about it now…”

“I’m sorry.” Harry cuts him off, blurting out the words as though he can’t hold onto them any longer. His voice is raw, hoarse like it _aches_ and the emotive nature of his shining eyes, wide and earnest, alarms Louis. “Lou, I’m…I’m so sorry.”

Louis lifts his head and shakes it, meeting his teary eyes. That’s not what Louis is even trying to get at. “No Harry…you were so s-sad and h-heartbroken that night—during that whole time you were h-hurting so much that you weren’t even yourself anymore. And that night… _god_ —it hurt so m-much to watch you go through that...watch you fall apart” He tightens his grasp around Harry’s naked waist. “And I j-just—I wanted to help you, I wanted to make you stop hurting but I…”

Louis knows it’s not beneficial to get caught up in the _what if’s_ and _if only’s_ of life. To hit replay on the recording of his life and wonder what would have happened or what could have happened if only he had made a different decision. What if it all went down differently? What if he gave in to Harry that night? What if he professed his feelings earlier? Would it have made a difference? Would Harry have stayed? Could all of this somehow have been avoided?

But Louis knows that getting lost in all that shit, won’t help either of them and it’s not what Louis wants to focus on any more. Because if he allowed himself, Louis knows he could go round and round about this for centuries. But in the end, Louis can’t deny that Harry leaving triggered a cascade of events that pushed him to an elevated point in his career as a surgeon. A point he might not have ever reached if Harry and Avery remained in his life during those pivotal years. With nothing else to distract him, nothing to call his own, Louis became the best in his field, world renowned and respected. And as a surgical intern, years ago, he was so close to throwing that away for her, unknowing of how much she would one day need him in the future.

Maybe he would have changed specialties, opted for something far less rigorous to be able to balance raising her with Harry. Maybe he wouldn’t have been so involved in innovative research or as disciplined in becoming trained and certified in so many minor precise subsets of his field, maybe he wouldn’t have been the _best_. Louis knows he still would have been happy, they were his entire world and if he had them, how could he not be happy? But one day Louis would wake up and find out that his baby was sick, and he wouldn’t have been able to help her at all, powerless to watch her body become overtaken by a malignant disease and he would have ultimately lost her still, for good.

Without the connection he and Avery had, without the unbounded drive, no one would have gone to the lengths Louis went through to save her. No one in their right mind would have crossed given boundaries and did what he did, it wasn’t sound medical judgement or logical practice. From an outside prospective, what he did was outlandish. It was risky and dangerous for everyone involved, but he would still do it again and again and again to save Avery.

So if Louis thinks about all that, if he attempts to rationalize the alternative trajectories his life could have taken, he has to start to believe that maybe things really do happen for a reason. As horrible as it was to spend those eight years apart, maybe it was necessary in certain respects and in the end, they were always meant to come back to each other.

“For years I always went back and forth about that night in my head, you know? I replayed everything about it over and over. And then I started thinking about the day you left…and the h-horrible fight we had and every time I always just wanted to take it all b-back…I wanted to just hold you and remind you that everything was going to be ok and that you would get through it, we would get through it t-together. I wanted to tell you t-that I loved you and never let you go…” Louis exhales along with his tears, trying to make sense of his thoughts. “But it didn’t work out that way…and only recently have I been able to consider the possibility that maybe…m-maybe everything does happen for a reason, maybe there’s m-meaning in everything, even the little t-things…” Louis tries to explain, voice wavering as he accepts it. “Avery did that for me…she changed _e-everything_ for me…”  

Harry has just as many tears racing down his cheeks as Louis does, linking their fingers together between them.

“I…I don’t know if that makes sense but…I just want you to know that what happened to us in the past isn’t your fault, love…” Louis tells him seriously, looking right into his eyes with all the sincerity in his heart. He is gripping Harry’s hands tightly, searching his eyes. “We shouldn’t find blame anymore...and wherever this goes between us, I don’t ever want you to feel like we aren’t even or level with each other because we are. We are, Harry. I love you and I’ll always love you no matter what happened then or what happens now.”

Harry leans in and kisses him, more tears spilling over as he seems to acknowledge all that Louis has said to him. Louis pulls Harry even closer, the kiss edging on the realm of desperation, both of them needing something from each other. Louis presses Harry’s back to the fabric lined headboard from where he’s positioned on his lap, both of his hands flat to Harry’s exposed chest.

“I’m all yours, Lou.” Harry murmurs intensely, passionately, like it’s the only thing he knows without a shadow of doubt to be true. “What do you want?”

“I want you.” Louis mumbles desperately to Harry’s jaw, fingers grazing up along his neck to hold his face. It’s all he could ever want, all of Harry in every way. He needs Harry, needs his hands on his body, needs his lips pressed to Louis’ own, needs that closeness with him. “I just want you…”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhKBFpnXMpg&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR7yXYtGmwZ9-1Ev-Jk3Xs&index=2)

Harry nods silently, clearly feeling the same way as he holds Louis’ charged gaze. Louis reaches behind him to the bedside table to grab a small bottle of lube and a condom packet, handing them to Harry without saying anything more.

“Ok.” Harry whispers softly, sealing their lips together amorously.

Harry removes the sweater he let Louis borrow earlier, lifting it over Louis’ head. Then he gradually begins unbuttoning Louis’ shirt, one by one, gentle fingertips brushed against nervous, nearly trembling skin. There’s an air of trepidation between them, hesitation hitching his movements as though still scared to cross an invisible line that doesn’t exist, seeking permission with every touch as though he’s terrified of something irrational.

“It’s ok…” Louis murmurs, trailing his hands along the sides of Harry’s face in reassuring motions, locking eyes. There’s still a question there, trapped in the emerald green of Harry’s gaze, a silent yet urgent question of approval, of confirmation that Louis really is ok. “It’s ok, H…I’m sure, I’d tell you if I wasn’t.” 

Louis lays back on the bed, head rested against the pillows as he slowly pulls Harry with him. Louis runs his fingers along Harry’s shirtless back, sliding his hands under Harry’s torso to unfasten his jeans. Harry gets Louis completely out of his dress shirt, sitting up with both palms pressed to his hips.

“God, you’re so fucking fit.” Harry groans, staring at Louis’ naked chest seeming ready fall to his knees to bow down and worship him. Louis lifts up as well, adjusting in Harry’s lap, straddling his legs around his hips.

“I run every morning.” Louis answers between kisses along Harry’s jawbone, nosing along the veins of his neck. The smell of his soft skin is wildly intoxicating, Louis could get drunk off of it, maybe he already is utterly wasted off of it. He smells divine, he smells of soft rose petals, of celestial gardens and warm herbaceous notes.  

And Louis can feel the pulse thrumming under Harry’s soft delicate skin growing more frantic with each new minute, rabid with every new touch. It’s not rushed though, there’s nothing rushed about the tender exploration of each other’s bodies, learning what draws out a reaction. Louis want to know exactly what makes Harry gasp, what makes him scream, what makes him completely lose his mind. Because for the first time, they have time, they have all the time in the world to just be together and figure out what that means for them.

Harry and Louis finish undressing each other until there’s not a single stitch of clothing between them. Harry’s naked body lies heavy between Louis’ legs, and Louis can feel just how hard Harry’s cock is, resting thickly against his thigh.

“You’re so beautiful, Louis.” Harry utters in reverence, as his hands praise Louis’ body unceasingly, devoting his mouth in tribute. “Everything about you is beautiful.” 

“ _Harry…”_ Louis exhales, breathless and heady, already panting as Harry sucks his mark purposefully to divot of Louis’ shoulder. Louis’ lashes flutter closed, fingertips tangled through Harry’s curls, grazing his scalp.

Harry hasn’t even touched a single finger to his dick, yet Louis already feels so undone, hard to the point of pain. All he wants is for Harry to touch him, wrap his hands around him. Louis adjusts his hips upwards, seeking more contact with him, more friction. Like chasing after the effects of a drug, he can’t get enough of Harry’s touch, of Harry’s skin flush with his own.

Louis watches mesmerized, as Harry gradually moves down his body, leaving a trail of tactful marks and love bites. Each loving touch to his skin, to his nipples, to his ribs, his abs, his hips— _anywhere_ , sends sparks of electricity straight to his groin, nearly jolting his entire body with the sheer intensity of it. Louis can’t stop staring at how Harry’s muscles take the shape of hard lines, yet curve and bow so enticingly, so brilliantly, to every movement of his body.

Harry nudges Louis’ legs apart with his nose, pressing adorning kisses to his inner thighs, teeth lightly nipping at his sensitive skin as his long, slicked fingers begin opening him up. Harry takes his time with one lubed finger, then two, then three— _fuck,_ each digit driving Louis utterly mad with want, until he’s writhing against the sheets.

All the while, Harry’s lips murmur awed praises against Louis’ skin, acting like it is his sole mission to make Louis feel adored in every way imaginable. He’s meticulous in the deliberate way that he touches, adaptable in how he caresses, discovering exactly what Louis’ body responds to and taking careful note of it. Louis can hardly comprehend how Harry seems to be everywhere at once, his hands, his mouth, his body all envelope around Louis in the most astounding ways. 

With his knuckles gently spreading Louis apart, Harry takes his time kissing his way up the length of Louis’ erection to the tip, causing every hair on Louis’ body to stand completely on edge. Each press of his worshipping hands is transfixing, every minor trace of Harry’s lips makes him gasp, each slight movement is magnetizing. Louis has never wanted someone so badly in his life, he’s never so urgently needed to feel every part of someone else pressed against him, but fuck does he need Harry. Louis needs his fingers freely rooming along his goosebumped skin, he needs Harry’s mouth hungrily claiming whatever part of Louis he wants next. And Harry seems to answer Louis’ every need without it needing to be verbalized, so in tune with each reactive sound he makes. But now Louis needs Harry inside of him more than anything else.

“H…please…” Louis begs with a slack jaw, hands entangled in Harry’s hair, going limp as he feels long fingers spread even further apart inside him. It’s already so intense and at this rate, Louis isn’t sure of how long he can last. “Now…I want you now…I’m ready…please, love.” Those indomitable fingers of his are still moving at a methodical pace, brushing against his prostate and making Louis scream, arching into Harry’s touch. “Fuck— _right_ now, Harry please, please…”

Harry unhurriedly drags his lips back up the spans of Louis’ aroused torso, sucking at targeted points on his neck and collarbones until he seeks out his lips yet again. Louis moans right into his mouth, lowly whining and whimpering as he grips onto Harry in desperation. Harry sits back briefly to slip on a condom, rolling it on smoothly. He applies another squirt of lube before lowering back down, adjusting himself right back over Louis. Harry kisses Louis deeply once more, the tip of his erect head positioned just outside Louis’ primed hole. His heart is stuttering in anticipation, breath coming in ragged bursts as he gazes up at Harry.

“I’ve got you, baby.” Harry promises in a soft spoken whisper, soothing him.

As soon as Harry presses in, Louis inhales sharply through his open mouth, the very air stolen from his lungs. He can’t think or process, rendered useless as he adjusts to the overwhelming feeling of having Harry inside him. The feeling itself is so much fuller than he expected,  _deeper_ , a sensation so strong it utterly overrides all normal functioning.

Louis lulls his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to remember how to breathe. Harry hasn’t even moved yet, but it’s so much all at once. It’s been awhile since he last did this with anyone and there’s a slight painful edge to way his body expands around him, Harry completely filling him up—but god, it’s still so _good_.

Harry is hovering just above Louis’ face, starring down at him in what could only be described as pure wonderment. His pupils are already blown, breath just as ragged as Louis’. Harry’s biceps bracket Louis’ sides as he restrains himself from moving, patiently waiting for Louis to adjust.

“Are you ok, Lou?” He’s so gentle in how he says it, how he seems to cradle Louis with his entire body, carefully studying his face for every reaction.

Louis holds his palms tenderly to Harry’s upper neck, right near his jaw, and he lifts his head up to meet Harry’s lips in an answering firm kiss, hardly able to form tangible sentences in his fogged mind. Louis drives his hips forward slightly, goading Harry into moving.

Harry slowly slides out and back in once, a low almost guttural groan escaping his throat as his eyes momentarily flutter closed. Louis’ back involuntarily arches up off the bed, matching Harry’s groans with his own. Louis shifts his hands on Harry’s steady shoulders, slowly skimming them down the tantalizingly curved muscles of Harry’s arms until their fingers are intertwined against the sheets. When Harry’s eyes come to focus on Louis again, they’re so expressive, emotive beyond the constraint of words. Just watching the intensive look in Harry’s darkened eyes turns Louis on even more, making him simultaneously feel heated all over and tremendously loved.

The pace sets itself between them, gauged naturally through each other’s gaze. It’s slow, intimate in how close they are to each other, tender and gentle in how they touch, _adoring_. And Harry is so attentive, entire focus zoned solely on Louis beneath him. Louis surrenders control, he would surrender every tangible part of himself to Harry, it’s already his, everything he has, everything he is belongs to Harry.

Louis clings his arms around Harry’s broad back, fingers digging against the hard outlines and strong ripples of his muscles as he presses further into him, finding a new, faster rhythm. Every single stretch of Louis’ skin that is touching Harry’s is on fire, burning under his touch, leaving every square inch of his body hot and flushed. The way Harry’s body moves against him is rapturous, affecting Louis down to his very core. He lifts his legs to lock behind Harry’s lower back, right above the swell of his bum, sweetening the angle and allowing Harry to go deeper and deeper, hitting that spot dead-on with each and every thrust.

Louis doesn’t ever want it to stop, so wrapped up in everything about the man above him. He’s so beautiful, and in every possibly way Harry takes Louis’ last breath away. There’s a sheen of fresh sweat starting to coat Harry’s body and the sound of the sweet, salacious moans falling from his mouth, carnally alights Louis. 

It feels like all the excitement of a first time, a delicate balance of nerves and uncertainty spiking their blood stream faster than an infused drug. Every touch is novel, every motion is unmatched, but yet how they move is like falling right back into a well-known routine. Bodies so in sync and oddly familiar with each other even though it’s all so very new.

Maybe that’s because they’re so in tune with each other day to day. Louis always knows what Harry is feeling just by looking at him and the same goes for Harry when it comes to Louis. Like hearts tied together on a single string, they’re linked to each other in a way that defies understanding. And now, coming together physically like this, there’s a much higher element to it that Louis has never experienced with anyone else he’s ever slept with in his life. An emotional element, making it feel like so much more than sex. Louis feels vulnerable in ways he never thought he could possibly manage, stripped down and naked in every way. To be fully known and loved unconditionally by Harry, without constraint, without stipulation—it’s overwhelming, it’s unusual, it’s inspiring, it’s frightening. Oh, but it’s _everything_.

No one knows him like the man above him, no one understands the absolute mess inside him, no one pulls him out of the spiraling darkness within himself. They’ve been through so much, together and apart, and Louis could cry because the raw line of intimacy between them is overtaking every last cell in his body, physically overpowering his emotions. He has spent so much time hiding from his life, hiding away from his emotions, _years_ passed by filled with unfeeling moments. But in this moment, Louis is completely transparent, opened wide to every emotion that comes waving over him. Louis wants to remember this feeling forever, immortalize it along the folds of his mind and ruminate on it for years to come. He wants to think back on it long into the future and remember every ardent sensation, every passionate realization about his very first time with the love of his life.

Harry drops his head weakly, face buried to Louis’ neck as he gasps out a rasping moan that makes Louis lascivious with want and emotional desire. Harry’s arms come to circle around Louis’ upper back, clinging to him as though he needs Louis to be somehow closer to him.

“I love you...” Harry mumbles breathlessly to his collarbone, and his voice sounds wrecked with desperation and longing, like he’s on the verge of crying too, mirroring Louis’ every last emotion. “Fuck, Louis— _baby_ , I love you so much.”

Several silent tears begin to freely streak down Louis’ cheeks as he closes his eyes, holding on just as tightly to Harry with his entire body. As though embodying one soul, their racing hearts are as interlaced as physically as their joined bodies, spirits intertwined so thoroughly, it’s almost like they can read each other’s every thought. And it’s unbelievable, because it shouldn’t be possible to be so bound to one person, to feel so fucking much all at once.

Louis cups his unsteady hands to Harry’s reddened face as he searches his eyes, the words caught somewhere between his heart and his throat. So instead he brings his lips to Harry’s gently, kissing his lips raw until his impassioned words spill right out of him. “I love you.” He exhales, dropping his head down, mouth open as he sucks along the center groove of his chest. And as soon as he says it, the phrase makes Harry’s whole body tremor uncontrollably, having an overwhelmed reaction to the earnestness of Louis’ voice. So Louis keeps going, wanting to feel Harry come completely undone above him. He lifts his head towards Harry’s ear, chanting his undying love over and over again as he holds him. “I’m so in love with you, H…I love you with everything I am. I love you…I love you, Harry.”

“Oh, Louis.” Harry utters his name in pleasured reverence, heartfelt as though just saying his name does unmeasurable things to his entire system. His hips continue to rut steadily, and Louis doesn’t know how much more he can physically take, he’s never felt more connected to him and it’s compelling and breathtaking all at once.

Harry slips a hand between their glistening bodies to wrap around Louis’ cock, and Louis lets out a muted whine from somewhere deep in his throat on contact. It was already too much, but now with Harry’s smooth strokes matching the paced rhythm of their merged bodies, Louis knows he could come at any second. And it’s all making him so vulnerable, nakedly exposed to the point of neediness. There are even more tears pooling under his eyes and he’s once again overwhelmed by how severely his emotions are affecting his entire body. He never wants to lose this feeling, this _man,_ he never wants to spend another moment without him again.

“Baby, promise you’ll never leave me—promise you’ll a-always be mine…” Louis whimpers emotionally, fervent. He’s still holding Harry’s face in his hands, still looking deep into his blown eyes, needing to hear it, needing so much just to hear Harry promise those words to him.

Harry crashes their lips together hard, almost hard enough to hurt, teeth clinking roughly together as he seems to try and physically reassure Louis about how he feels. “I _promise_ —I swear I’m yours forever, Lou…you own my heart, you always have.” Harry whispers tenderly, twisting his wrist determinedly around Louis’ length while still moving inside him. “Yours…yours…only yours…”

And Louis swears he sees stars to the point of almost blacking out completely, he can barely breathe, barely function beyond the powerful spell Harry holds over his entire body and heart. It tugs more tears from his eyes and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so loved, wholly surrounded by it. Louis can feel a pressured heat unfurling inside him, he’s so close, teetering right near his edge.  

“I need you so much, Louis…” Harry’s breathy voice is cracking and weak and Louis can clearly see the fresh tears shining under his eyes that match his own. Honest and earnest, born from such a raw place inside him. “…I’m so lost without you. I never want to live without you.”

And maybe it’s that, Harry’s promise, Harry’s wrecked voice as he said it, the emotional wetness under his eyes, that sends Louis right over the edge, unable to hold out any longer. His lips form the revered shape of Harry’s name, moaned out in utter veneration, exhaled with pure love as he casts his head all the way back and rides the intense rippling waves of his orgasm, coming into Harry’s hand.

It doesn’t take many more moments for Harry to follow suit, seeming to be overwhelmed by the sheer sound of Louis finishing, clenching down around him. With a final thrust, Harry’s muscles tense as he comes inside Louis, fervidly groaning his release. His frame essentially collapses after that, falling on top of Louis, their sweaty heaving chests, sticking together. Louis is left positively wonderstruck, and he can’t think of a time when he’s ever had sex that meant so much and felt so unreal.

Louis keeps his arms locked around Harry’s back as they try to catch their breath. Harry’s eyes are still closed, cheek resting upon Louis’ rising chest, biceps curled tightly to his waist as if he doesn’t want to let go either. Louis doesn’t know how long they hold each other like that, Harry wrapped around him while Louis absently cards his fingers through Harry’s slightly damp hair, pressing gentle, repeated kisses to the crown of his head.

“You’ve always made the most beautiful sounds.” Harry tells him quietly.

Louis laughs a little, blissed out grin splayed across on his face.

“That’s my favorite of them all.” 

“My sex noises?” Louis laughs again in surprise, louder this time.

“Your laugh.” Harry drops his lips to the very center of Louis’ chest before peeking up at him seriously. “It’s everything to me.”

Louis hums contently, eyes falling closed as his lips part into a soft sleepy smile. Harry lifts up to kiss him, torsos sticky. He’s a mess, they both are, but also too lazy and too comfortable to do anything about it. Louis snakes both of his arms around Harry again as he settles himself back down to Louis’ chest. And Louis can’t help but softly sigh, loving the simple feeling of having Harry’s warm skin flush against his own. He’s never felt more at peace.

“It feels like a dream...” Harry whispers, fingertips drawing gentle patterns along Louis’ lower ribs. “A dream so good…I’m afraid to wake up...”

“Like if you fall asleep, you’ll actually be waking up…and the dream will end, and tomorrow will come too soon?” Louis whispers back, fingers toying gently at his curls.

Harry nods his head slightly. “Yeah…” 

Louis tilts Harry’s jaw up to meet his eyes, lightly tracing along the outline of his face. “For as long as we’re together, I promise the dream will never, ever end, love.”

 

||☤||

 

Louis’ alarm goes off promptly at four A.M. and although it feels like he only slept for two minutes, it also feels good not to wake up alone in his bed. It’s different; feeling a warm body aligned with his own, arms and legs tangled up together between the sheets.

He shuts off the alarm quickly, not wanting to unnecessarily wake Harry up. But when Louis twists back around, he finds Harry still fast asleep, cuddled against Louis, curls splayed over the side of his face. Louis takes a moment to comb his fingers through Harry’s hair and all he can think about is how much he doesn’t want to leave this bed, not now, not ever. But he has a cordotomy scheduled for seven this morning that he still needs to prep for and he’s also got a crap ton of discharge charts to sign off on under his department from the days he wasn’t at work.

With a small sigh, Louis carefully begins to unwrap Harry’s arms from around his waist, attempting to untangle their legs. But Harry, whether consciously or not, keeps protesting, relentlessly clinging all his limbs to Louis’ body.

“I’m sorry, love.” Louis whispers, edging towards the side of the bed.

“Mm nooo…” Harry grumbles in his sleep with a cute disgruntled frown indenting his brow. “Don’t leave me…”

Louis dips his head down and kisses the little indent. “I don’t want to. I really don’t want to.”

Harry still refuses to let go, shaking his head sleepily with his eyes closed and he really does look adorable. “Then don’t.”

“I have patients to follow up on and a surgery this morning.” Louis tells him with another sigh, tracing the edges of Harry’s face. “But you’re welcome to whatever’s in my kitchen—which is probably nothing—shit, I’m sorry. I do have cereal though, I think?”

Harry hums contently, smiling with eyes remaining closed.

“Oh! There’s leftovers—your leftovers.” Louis remembers suddenly. “You’re welcome to your leftovers.”

Harry’s smile deepens along with his dimple. “Oooh, what a treat.”

“I know. I’m really spoiling you, aren’t I?” Louis jokes, making a mental note to go shopping this week.

“Stay.” Harry whispers, cracking his eyes open just enough for Louis’ to catch the freshly awakened green of his irises. “Eat leftovers in bed with me.”

He makes it sound all too appealing, with the graveled deepness of his voice that still manages to sound so soft and the relaxed earnestness in his gaze. It’s so appealing that parts of Louis have already begun to give in, leaning closer to kiss him, morning breath and all. Harry’s skin is warm to the touch, still naked and soft against Louis’. Everything about him is so lovely, Louis swears he could stay like this forever.

“Stay…”  Harry repeats quietly against Louis’ lips, lying face to face with his fingers coming to rest on Louis’ bare back.

Louis pouts a bit, his resolve dwindling the longer he lies here. “Stop asking me to stay, it’s unfair because you know I can’t.”

“I know, but I thought I should at least try.” Harry hums, arms refusing to relinquish their strong hold around Louis’ frame as he closes his eyes again.

Louis has already been absent from work for the past four days and his department isn’t going to run itself, his colleagues can only cover for him for so long. He can only imagine how many voicemails and emails he has waiting for him by now. It’s making him both tired and anxious just thinking about it.

“Ok you’ve gotta let me go, I’ll be late.” Louis pulls back, cupping Harry’s displeased face, eyes still closed as he drifts in and out of sleep. “You don’t have to leave, I’ll be back in a few hours. I only have one surgery today and it’s not a long one.”

Harry nods blearily and it seems like he’s nearly fallen right back into the folds of sleep.

“Sleep tight, I love you.” Louis whispers and it feels so good to say it freely. Harry sleepily mumbles the words back to him under his incognizant breath and Louis smiles softly. He drops a final kiss to the crown of Harry’s head before ducking off to the bathroom for a quick shower.

 

||✚||

 

It wasn’t hard for Harry to fall back asleep, Louis’ bed is incredibly comfy and it smells just like him. And he probably would have stayed asleep if it wasn’t for the presence of a very needy dog pawing at his hands to wake him up. When that doesn’t exactly work, Benny jumps right onto the bed, licking Harry’s face.

“Alright, alright, I’m up.” Harry giggles, blindly petting the pup’s head. “Good morning to you too, Benedict.”

Benedict drops himself completely in Harry’s lap, ready to soak up any and all attention he can. And Harry gives it to him gladly, rubbing his tummy and scratching behind his ears, even saying nonsense words to him. Benedict absolutely loves it though, how could he not when he’s such a big, fluffy baby. Harry really did miss him.

After a while Benedict suddenly hops off of the bed and runs down the hall, something that causes Harry to frown in confusion. But he doesn’t think too much about it because Benny has always been weird. It’s not until Benedict returns with a leash hanging from his mouth that Harry begins to understand what his dog is really after.

“Benedict, I don’t know what Louis does with you every morning, but I am not up for a run right now.” Harry tells him, shaking his head. All he really wants to do is stay in bed and think about the next time Louis will be in it with him.

Last night was… _everything_.

Like breathing for the first time in his life, like nothing else before ever even mattered—that may all sound ridiculously melodramatic, but Harry doesn’t care in the slightest because he’s so deeply in love with Louis, properly gone for him. His heart sings a continuous outpouring of love for one man.

Benedict barks once at Harry in warning, shaking him right out of his drifting, overly romantic thoughts.

“Benny, a run is not happening, ok?” Harry repeats. “If you’d like to try a nice walk or something, I’m your guy.”

Benedict very much did _not_ want to go for a walk and he made that known from the very moment his paws hit the sidewalk. Determined to get Harry up to Louis’ speed, Benedict ran as fast as his old little heart could take, which was pretty damn fast, dragging Harry right along. And Harry, in accordance with his poor unprepared legs, regrets the second he ever decided to leave Louis’ bed.

 

||☤||

 

When Louis gets back home from the hospital a little past noon, Harry isn’t in bed anymore, not that Louis expected him to be, it’s been nearly nine hours since Louis left him there. But his bedroom isn’t completely alone, there’s a small note left on the bedside table.

_L,_

_As much as I’d love to lie in your bed forever, I’ve decided it probably isn’t the most responsible thing to do with my time. I’ve gone to the hospital to spend time with Avery for a bit, maybe I’ll see you there. But if not, I’ll certainly see you later._

_Back soon._

_I love you xx H_

_P.S. I don’t know how you run with Benedict every day, he’s so fucking fast. I was not prepared. _

Louis smiles as he reads it several times over, absently biting on his lower lip. It’s such a _Harry_ thing to do, leave a note. Texting exists and is probably far more efficient, but Harry is still the kind of person who leaves little handwritten notes and it’s just so endearing.

Sadly, he didn’t get to see Harry at the hospital. Avery was the very first patient he rounded on, as she usually is, and he spent a good amount of time hanging out with her long before Harry probably even woke up.

Louis places the note back down on his bedside table and then moves to start busying himself with cleaning up the mess from last night. Except, he soon realizes there is no mess from last night because Harry has cleaned up everything from the dishes in the kitchen to washing the soiled linens of Louis’ bed.

It has Louis smiling to himself yet again and it’s honestly starting to get ridiculous how giddy and fond and soft Harry keeps making him. And the man isn’t even here right now! God, Louis needs to get a grip, but truthfully, he doesn’t really care to. Not when he feels this good. He pulls out his phone and gets ready to send Harry a lengthy thank you message, when Louis hears a knock at the front door.

Louis opens the door and giggles to himself when he finds Harry leaning against the doorframe. “Did you lose your key already?”

“No…” Harry is grinning at him like he has a secret or something. “It’s just that I gotta do this right.”

“Do what right?”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qyfrwf232FI&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR7yXYtGmwZ9-1Ev-Jk3Xs&index=3)

Harry clears his throat, moving his hand from behind his back to present Louis with a lovely bouquet of fresh cut roses, ruby red and gorgeous. “Louis Tomlinson, will you do me the honor of going out on a date with me?”

“Oh my god.” A slow grin grows on Louis’ face as he takes the bouquet. “Are you, Harry Styles, _courting_ me?”

“A little.” Harry smiles stupidly and his dimples only get deeper. “Yeah…maybe…”

Louis leans in like he’s revealing his own secret, cupping a hand to his mouth as he whispers loudly. “You do realize we already slept together, right? Mere hours ago?”

“Yes, obviously.” Harry cheeks flourish with color. “But that doesn’t mean that I would ever miss out on a chance to take you out on our first official date and woo you.”

“I think I’m down to be wooed.” Louis ponders with a slow considering nod.

“That’s a yes?”

“That’s a yes.” Louis nods his head once again, unable to keep the wide smile off of his face.

“He said yes! I’ve got a date!” Harry turns around to boisterously shout at the unassuming neighborhood, exaggeratedly fist pumping like he’s won the lottery or something. And it makes Louis laugh behind the palm of his hand because he’s such an endearing dork and Louis is so in love with him. “Pick you up at five?”

“Oh, this is quite official isn’t it?” Louis asks, impressed. “Picking me up and everything, how gentlemanly.”

 _“Yes.”_ Harry insists, widening his eyes. “Come on, Lou, get with it. I’m _seriously_ courting you.”

Louis laughs again fondly. “Is there a dress code too?”

“Good question.” Harry smirks, narrowing his eyes in serious deliberation. “Very good question.”

“One awaiting an answer.”

“Comfy.” Harry answers simply with a shrug.

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Comfy?”

“Mhmm. The comfiest of comfy clothes.” Harry nods once, knowingly. “That’s the dress code.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a comfy first date. I’m excited.” Louis leans in closer, attempting to kiss him, but Harry dodges right out of the way.

“No, don’t kiss me.”

“Harry. What.” Louis deadpans, face flat and confused.

Harry holds his hands up, putting notable distance between them. “Not before our date.”

“What the fuck, Harry?” Louis finds himself laughing as he always seems to when it comes to Harry. “We literally just had sex last night! And now you won’t even kiss me.”

“What part of _seriously_ courting do you not understand?”

“All of it, to be honest.” Louis admits. “I’m genuinely confused by whatever that means.”

Harry grins, winking. “Good, that’s all a part of my master plan to seduce you.”

Louis only laughs even harder. “And again I say, what the fuck, Harry.”

Harry laughs along with him. “Seduction is an art form, you know.”

“God, you’re so weird.” Louis smiles fondly.

 

||✚||

 

Harry makes sure to show up at Louis’ doorstep on time, better than on time actually. He’s quite a bit early and he’s also antsy, a tendency he often has when he’s really nervous or excited. In this case, Harry is beyond excited, unable to think about much else but his very first date with Louis.

True to his word, Harry is dressed in his finest. And by finest he obviously means, his most comfy set of black Nike joggers. Louis might have thought he was joking about the whole comfy thing, but he was two hundred percent serious. Tonight, they are going to have the most comfortable, relaxed first date to ever exist.

“More flowers?” Louis smiles warmly as Harry presents him with yet another colorful arrangement.

“Yes, get used to it.” Harry pecks his cheek lightly.

“I think I’m going to need to invest in more vases or something.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

“I’ve got the ones from dinner last night, and the ones from this afternoon and now these.” Louis lists as though it’s some kind of burden, but Harry can already tell that he loves it.

“And who knows you may have more by the end of the night.” Harry winks. “I’m going to shower you in flowers.”

Louis’ cheeks blush as pink as the delicate roses he’s holding, and he drops his gaze down for a moment. All Harry can do is stare at how his long eyelashes seem to always gracefully dust his cheekbones. He’s mesmerizing and perfect and Harry is so utterly gone for him.

“Well, how do I look?” Louis asks, gesturing to his own jogger ensemble in a dark grey. “This is as comfy as I can reasonably manage.”

“You look amazing.” Harry answers without needing to think about it. “I just love a man in grey sweatpants.”

Louis smirks, tilting his head. “I can’t tell if that was genuine or just a horny joke.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

Louis shakes his head, failing to hide his fond smile. “Alright H, so what do you have planned for our first date?”

“We are going to let the road lead us.” Harry replies simply. 

“No plans?”

“Nope.” 

Louis narrows his eyes as he thinks about it. “So our first official date has no official plans.”

“I guess you could say that, but it’s a planned unplanned date.” Harry explains. “I put a lot of thought into this, it’s premeditated.”

“Premeditated.” Louis grins.

“Mhmm, but in a way that’s uninhibited. Just you and me on the open road with the top down and the setting sun on the horizon.”

“Alright then, count me in.” Louis gives him a smile like he’s ready for any and everything and it’s just the answer Harry hoped for.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TWYsjnR4cuQ&index=4&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR7yXYtGmwZ9-1Ev-Jk3Xs)

And it seems to become perfectly clear to Louis from the second they walk out onto the street that Harry really did put a great deal of thought into this date.

“Oh my god, Harry?” Louis looks back at Harry in complete surprise. “Where the hell did you find that?”

It’s a pristine sky blue 1965 convertible mustang and Harry spent all afternoon tracking it down to rent for their date. The top is already folded down, revealing the refurbished cream-colored leather upholstery lining the inside. Harry just figured that if they were going to take a drive to who knows where, they might as well do it in a bit of style. And besides, he’s always wanted to drive one. What better opportunity than their first date?

“I have my ways.” Harry shrugs nonchalantly, although in reality he busted his ass hunting this car down. It’s not as easy as he expected to find a vintage convertible in such short notice. But once Louis said yes to his date proposal, Harry knew he would haul ass to make it perfect.

“I’ll admit, I’m no expert on cars or anything, but that’s pretty sick.”

“ _Right_?” Harry swings open the passenger side door for Louis to get in.

“I love it already.” Louis grins as he climbs inside.

Harry gets in on the driver’s side, turning towards Louis as they get settled in. “Alright so, we’ve got a full tank of gas, a picnic basket full of the best snacks, essentially the crème de la crème of junky comfort food.” He describes animatedly, and it already has Louis giving him the softest smile. “Then we’ve got a ton of different playlists curated by yours truly to accommodate any mood we might have on our journey. And last but certainly not least…a winter coat.”

Louis laughs as Harry pulls a thick parka from the back seat. “Is that for me?”

“Yeah, I mean, the top is down and it’s supposed to be 49 degrees tonight, so you might get a bit breezy.”

Louis smiles wide, completely amused.

“But it’s actually my coat so it’s also something for you to steal.” Harry adds knowingly.

“You thought of everything didn’t you?” Louis continues grinning, leaning over the center console to the driver’s side of the car to kiss him appreciatively. Which Harry completely allows this time around.

“We can only hope. After all, it is an unplanned planned date.” Harry smiles against his lips. “Ready to take a drive with me?”

“Born ready.”

And so they take a drive to nowhere in particular, determined to enjoy the journey of getting to know each other again. They know each other well, but they’ve each missed so much in each other’s lives over the years and they’ve promised to be open and honest about it all from the highest points to the very lowest. The conversation never stops as is custom for them, never reaching a dull point or awkward pause.

Louis tells Harry all about how he became The Head of Neuro at SSMC, going through the various turning points of his career. He talks about his favorite patients, the ones that touched his heart, the ones that changed his outlook on life, the ones that made him better. And Harry will ask questions from time to time, wanting to know everything Louis is willing to share. Harry keeps a hand on Louis’ knee as he drives, unconsciously running along his thigh as Louis talks. Louis tells him all about his three best friends and how no matter how much he fights them, they never stop caring and mothering over him. And he fills Harry in on each of his friends’ ridiculous roller-coaster love lives that have been up and down over the years, especially Liam and Zayn. Lastly, Louis tells Harry the full story of how he delivered a baby earlier this week and how amazing Frankie is and how much he will absolutely love her when he meets her.

Louis takes over driving when it’s Harry’s turn to talk, and he does end up putting on Harry’s jacket, the breeze getting to him as Harry knew it would. Harry tells Louis about his time in Los Angeles and how he became the lead marketing consultant for a start-up business. It can be demanding sometimes, depending on the client he’s working with, but he really enjoys it and he’s good at it. Harry of course talks about Avery for a while, because she is his entire life, everything he does, he does for her.

They talk about things that aren’t as comfortable too, like how Harry got with Jesse and how much of himself he’d been ignoring all those years. Louis holds his hand as Harry describes how awful and shocking it was to find Jesse cheating on him, and how he still can’t help but think about it whenever he sets foot in his bedroom. He can’t sleep in there at all anymore, and if he does sleep at his house it’s usually in Avery’s bed, if not the guest room.

Louis threatens to turn the car around, so they can go find Jesse and “fuck up that dickhead’s life” and Harry thinks he is joking, but maybe not because Louis reveals exactly how much he hated Jesse from the moment he met him. Not that Harry is surprised, if the roles were somehow reversed, Harry can’t imagine himself treating Jesse even as politely as Louis tried to.

Harry gets back in the driver’s seat and they decide to take a break from talking in favor of popping in one of Harry’s mixtapes and belting out random songs together. They laugh a lot. Probably too much, to the point where Harry’s cheeks ache from smiling so hard and his sides burn from all of their dumb jokes that never seem to stop coming. But it’s so good to know that the banter between them still flows just as easily as it did a decade ago. Their odd niche of humor still comes so naturally. Being together feels so comfortable; it’s right and just so easy.

After three hours of talking and laughing, they pass a sign advertising a drive-in movie theater.

“Should we?” Harry wonders, glancing to Louis.

“Of course we should.” Louis answers without hesitation. “Isn’t that what letting the road lead us is all about?”

“You’re right.” Harry nods decisively. “Drive in movie it is.”

Harry parks the car and they both climb into the back seat, Harry settling in between Louis’ legs with a blanket thrown over their bodies. It’s an old movie, probably as old as the car they’re sitting in and there is hardly anyone else in the carpark, making it feel like it’s all just for them.

The movie has only been rolling for all of five minutes and Louis is already leaving gentle kisses behind Harry’s ears. It’s slow and purposeless how he moves his lips along his skin, just simple touches of affection. 

“Excuse me, can’t you see that I am trying to watch the movie?” Harry twists around a little to peek back at Louis.

“No, you’re not…” Louis whispers knowingly, nosing along the lines of Harry’s neck, right over his pulse points.

“Yes, I am.” Harry lies, tilting his head up, only proving Louis’ point by exposing more of his neck for him. 

Louis seems to love sucking marks along the grooves of Harry’s skin, taking pride in watching his body react to every deliberate move he makes. Harry knows his neck is going to be littered with little purpling love bites in the morning, but he likes the idea of being marked by Louis.

Under the blanket, Louis’ hand gradually slides down Harry’s abs, reaching towards the waistband of his joggers, but before Louis can even get anywhere, Harry smacks his hand away.

“It’s our first date!” Harry reprimands, as though genuinely appalled.

Louis smiles against Harry’s shoulder. “As if we’re sixteen and I promised your parents that I’d bring you home by nine without a single hair out of place.”

Harry giggles. “Exactly like that. Please respect my fictional parents’ wishes to protect my virtue.”

Louis laughs hard, always so amused by the dumb shit Harry says. But it’s just the reaction Harry never stops craving and he can’t help but bathe in the warm, full sound of his laugh. “Fuck, I really love you, H. Like a lot.”

“I love hearing you say that. Like a lot.” Harry melts back against Louis contently. “And I love you, like a lot too.”

“I love you.” Louis whispers again, serious this time as his gentle lips brush against the lobes of Harry’s ears.

It gives Harry chills, goosebumps prickling his sensitive skin, causing the hairs of his neck to stand up. And all he wants is to hear Louis tell him that over and over again, until nothing else even matters anymore. “Again.”

_“I love you.”_

 

||☤||

 

“Walking me to my door and everything.” Louis grins, hand in hand with Harry as they approach his house. It’s nearing two A.M. already and Louis’ doesn’t even know where the time went. “Again, what a gentleman.”

“Well, I’m trying to get lucky, so...” Harry shrugs nonchalantly.

Louis giggles, pulling Harry’s hand up the front porch steps. He unlocks the door and then slowly turns back towards Harry. “Do you want to come inside?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Harry hovers closer to him, eyeing Louis’ lips. “Who says our date has to end right here?”

“I don’t know your little courting rules. It could break tradition or something.” Louis teases, toying with the drawstrings of Harry’s hoodie.

“Fuck tradition.” Harry grunts suddenly, pressing Louis against the door without restraint.

“Gladly.” Louis seals his lips to Harry’s, winding the drawstrings around his hands only to walk them backwards into the house, tugging Harry inside. “I’ve been waiting all night for you to say that.”

They spent the entire evening together all the way to the wee morning hours and yet they still don’t want it to end. They end up taking a bath together, Louis insisting on contributing something to their first date by spending twenty minutes strategically placing candles until the entire master bathroom is illumed only by candlelight. Harry loves it of course, and they make a shameless mess of lavender scented bath water when Louis fucks Harry along the smooth porcelain of the tub.

Their skin is quickly becoming pruned from how long they’ve been sat in this tub, but neither of them seem to care, perfectly comfortable and content in each other’s arms. Louis sits in between Harry’s legs, eyes closed with his head lulled all the way back against the divot of his shoulder as Harry trails adorning kisses down his wet neck to the dips of his collarbones.

Harry lifts his arms from the water to drape around Louis’ chest, dropping his chin down to rest on Louis’ right shoulder. “Louis?”

“Hmm?”

“So I know this is technically only our first date and I look forward to many more but—”

“Yes.” Louis interjects simply, not even opening his eyes.

“There wasn’t even a question in my sentence yet.” Harry laughs against Louis’ temple.

Louis turns around in Harry’s lap, sloshing water around until their naked chests are aligned together. “Will I be your boyfriend? Yes.” He leans in to peck Harry’s lips amorously, smiling into the kiss.

Harry pulls a stupid face, scrunching up his features at Louis. “Actually, um…this is a bit awkward, I was going to ask if you would write me a prescription, because good healthcare is so hard to come by these days and—”

“Using me for my ability to write pharmaceutical scripts, I should have known.” Louis jokes, trying to hold back his laugh. “What’ll it be this time?”

“Viagra.” Harry can’t even keep a straight face as he says it.

Louis lets his head completely drop down against Harry’s shoulder as he bursts into laughter. In fact, he laughs so hard that he snorts, which only makes him laugh harder.

“I know I’m young and healthy, but this guy I’m seeing is wearing me out already. He’s insatiable! He expects so much, I don’t know if I’ll make it much longer without the help of that sweet, little blue pill.”

“Oh my god, stop! You idiot.” Louis can’t stop laughing, bursting into another round of fond giggles, swatting Harry’s bare chest.

Harry laughs proudly at his own joke, sticking his tongue out playfully. “An idiot that is now your boyfriend.” He lowers his lips to wetly mouth along Louis’ jawline, hands gradually inching down from his waist to cup the cheeks of his ass, spreading them apart enough for his fingers to graze over his hole. 

Louis sighs blissfully against Harry’s purposeful touch, fingers toying with the short wet hairs at the nape of his neck. He’s truly amazed when his dick twitches once again in interest, seeming to have such a narrow refractory period. Louis has to be at work in just a few hours but somehow, as reckless as it sounds, he can’t seem to give a fuck about that right now. He can sleep when he’s dead. “Mmm…well come on then, boyfriend…take me to bed and prove you know how to actually use that tongue of yours.”

Harry pulls back with a questioning frown. “I’m sorry, but was that a yes to writing me a prescription or…”

“I hate you.” Louis cackles.

 

||☤||

 

“Sooo.” Niall slides in next to Louis, draping his arm over his shoulder as he begins staring at his profile intently.

“Hmm—what?” Louis blinks, startled back into sipping on his coffee that he forgot he was holding. In the past forty-eight hours, he’s probably only slept a combined total of five hours thanks to his now boyfriend. And he’s sore, the good kind of sore though. The kind that sends tingles down his spine every time he moves and reminds him exactly what he has to look forward to the next time.

And that’s why Louis is currently slacking off at the nurses’ station, sipping on his coffee while shamelessly daydreaming about the next time he’ll get to see Harry. Just simply thinking about him makes Louis smile and he doesn’t know when he became this sappy, nauseating person who sits and dotes on their partner all day, but he’s starting to just embrace it.

“I want to hear everything.”

“Everything about…?”

“Oh, don’t be coy, Lou.” Niall gives him a flat look. “You’ve been keeping this story from me. A story you owe me after listening to you for the past I don’t know how many years.”

“What story?” Louis smiles behind his coffee cup.

“Don’t do this, Tomlinson. Don’t play this game.” Niall warns seriously. “I may be a nice, friendly, kid doctor, but I’m resourceful, ok. I will get the truth I deserve.”

Liam and Zayn walk up to the station together, each of their faces softening when they spot Louis.

Zayn doesn’t hesitate to drag Louis by his shoulders into a tight embrace. “Long time no see, Tomlinson.”

“Oh, it’s so good to see you, Louis.” Liam smiles warmly, pulling Louis into his own arms next.

“Where is my hug?” Niall frowns, so Louis transitions into another set of open arms.

He’s being passed around like a ragdoll between his friends, but somehow he doesn’t quite mind it so much. “Missed you, lads.”

“You look so much better since the last time I saw you.”

The last time they saw him, Louis was two seconds from breaking all the way down in the imaging room, fighting himself as hard as his persistent tears. He was at the end of his rope, frazzled and exhausted and emotional. The sheer worry on their faces that day, told Louis everything he needed to know about how poorly he looked. Leaving Seattle that afternoon was probably the best thing he could have done.

Louis offers a shy smile, shrugging. “I feel really good, yeah…”

“I was just trying to get him to tell me about Harry and where he’s been all this time.” Niall explains.

Zayn nods. “Oh yes, I think we are all more than entitled to that story.”

 _“Right?”_ Niall agrees right away. “That’s exactly what I said Z.”

“Honestly, I found a grey hair the other day and I know for a fact it was caused by all the stress Louis has put me through over the years.” Liam claims.

“Have you considered that it’s probably from the stress of your career?” Louis offers.

“Uh no sorry. It was you.” Liam teases lightly, arm slung over Louis’ shoulder. “My career doesn’t stress me out half as much as you do.”

“Now tell us about Harry.” Zayn practically demands, clearly growing impatient.

“Spill it.” Niall insists at his side.

“Hurry up, Lou seriously.” Liam urges next. “I want to hear it before my next surgery.”

Louis sighs. “You’re all seriously such gossips.” 

Zayn rolls his eyes. “You say that like we don’t already know.”

“You know you want to tell us.” Niall encourages, leaning in with narrowed eyes. “We know you’re dying to tell someone. We know you.”

“Fine.” Louis exhales heavily as if it’s so much work for him to talk about Harry. It’s quite the opposite and he isn’t fooling anyone, he could talk about Harry for days on end and not once tire from it. “Well, how much do you want to know?”

“All of it! I want to feel like I’m literally there watching it happen scene by scene.” Niall describes.

“You know there are these things called movies? And basically, you watch other people act out really dramatic stories and—”

“Shut up, you ass.”

Louis laughs to himself, always getting a kick out of teasing Niall.

“ _Louis!”_ All three of his friends give him the exact same look of utter exasperation.

“Ok, ok, ok.” Louis holds his hands up in surrender. “God…”

Louis goes through the whole story as it were, telling his best friends all about the conference he never made it to. About his near-death experience when he met Frankie in the middle of nowhere and somehow ended up delivering her baby. He explains how confused he was up until that point and how the experience put things in perspective for him and gave him the push he needed to finally admit his feelings for Harry. Louis admits that yes, he did cry when he told Harry and no, it wasn’t embarrassing, and he doesn’t regret a thing about it. He probably blushes a million times when he describes how Harry surprised him with the sweetest romantic dinner and how they ended up in their meadow dancing under the moonlight, which led right into the emotional but unforgettable first time they had. And then there was their first date when Harry properly courted him and how easy and relaxed and comfortable the whole night was. Louis can’t help but talk about how often Harry makes him laugh and how they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other for more than two minutes at a time which more often than not leads to them having sex again and again and again and _again_ …

Louis should probably be far more exhausted than he actually feels, but he’s high on the lingering feeling, the residual aftermath of it all.

When he’s finished, he feels like he’s been talking nonstop and he doubts they’re even listening to him drone on anymore. But it’s quite the opposite, Niall pulls him right in for a bone-crushing hug, squeezing him so tight, Louis nearly loses feeling in his arms. “Aww Louis, I’m so happy for you. You deserve to be loved.”

Louis’ face colors up with a slight blush and it’s really nice to have the support of his best friends. They’ve really been there for him through thick and thin, volunteering themselves for every emotional roller-coaster Louis has thrown at them and if he says it every day till he dies, it won’t make it any less true, but Louis swears he loves each of them more than words can say.

“You should see your face when you talk about him, Lou.” Zayn describes. “It’s almost embarrassing.”

“It’s like…I don’t mind it?” Louis smiles, shrugging.

Liam’s eyes are soft and genuine. “I’m really glad you both finally got your acts together. It was about time.”

“Dude, I remember when we first met Harry and I asked him if he and Louis were fucking.” Zayn starts cackling to himself. “I basically predicted the future.”

“I hated you for that.” Louis frowns. “I was honestly so fucking embarrassed by you.”

“I know, it was _hilarious_.” Zayn continues to laugh before sighing contently. “Ahh, good times.”

 

||☤||

 

“Well don’t you look _refreshed_.” Frankie smirks as Louis walks into her room with an evaluation and small stack of discharge forms.

“I have no idea what you mean, I’ve hardly slept since the last time I talked to you.”

“Not that kind of refreshed. Loved up suits you.” Frankie smiles knowingly, looking him over fully. “You’re literally glowing, I swear to god.”

Louis sighs, biting back a smile. It’s like everywhere he goes, all of his friends feel the need to talk about how happy he looks, and Louis wants to be annoyed but he physically can’t be. “Alright, yeah, enough.”

“It’s _true_! Have you seen yourself recently? Harry has really done a number on you.”  

Louis’ face colors instantly, but he shakes his head and determinedly moves on with why he actually came here. “Ok, so I need to assess your post-op progress and evaluate you for discharge. Have you been experiencing any pain or—”

But Frankie doesn’t even let him finish before going right back to talking about Harry. “I want to meet him, Lou! You promised me. It’s literally the only reason I’m in Seattle.”

Louis grins at her. “Frankie, you’re in Seattle because I’m your doctor and I transferred you here for monitoring.”

“No, I’m in Seattle because I needed to make sure my friend Louis gets his happy ending with Harry, who I still need to meet. _Now_.” Frankie emphasizes seriously as she sits up. “If you don’t bring him in here, I’m going to get up and go find him myself. He’s somewhere in the building, I’m sure.”

Louis smiles, shaking his head fondly at her. “You’ll meet him I promise.”

“I’ve heard that before.” Frankie rolls her eyes.

“Ok, answer these questions and sign these discharge forms and I’ll bring him in here.”

Frankie narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Are you bullshitting me?”

“What? I never bullshit.” Louis denies, fighting a smirk.

“That’s _bullshit_!” Frankie laughs, whacking his forearm lightly.

“Ok, maybe…but I’m serious, alright?” Louis assures. “Let’s get you discharged and then I swear on my godson’s life that you’ll meet Harry.”

“If you swear on my baby and break that promise, I’ll kill you.” Frankie states seriously, looking right into his eyes dead on.

“I know that. So obviously I’m not gonna break it.”

“Fine.” Frankie huffs, holding her hand out. “Ask your dumb questions and give me the paperwork to sign.”

Louis smirks triumphantly, handing her the forms. He goes through his neuro assessment, evaluating her cranial nerve functioning one by one. He makes sure to emphasize how she needs to take it easy these next few weeks, explaining that being discharged doesn’t mean her body is completely healed. He doesn’t want her to overdo it too quickly, which is something she obviously would do, knowing her. Lastly, Louis goes over all the medications he’s prescribing her for pain and discomfort, stressing that she call him if she has any symptoms or adverse effects.

“Alright, that about does it. I can officially discharge you from my service. You’ll just need to be discharged from OB/GYN as well and then you’ll be home free.” Louis announces, scribbling his signature at the very bottom of the form. “How’s the baby, by the way?”

“So _cute_ , oh my god. I’m so in love with him.” Frankie gushes, beaming wide. “Have you seen him? David and I really made one adorable kid.”

“I saw him the other day actually. He’s so lovely, he has your nose.” Louis noticed it right away when he went to see baby Louis, he also has the makings of tiny dimples.

“I know, and he has David’s blue eyes. He’s perfect.” Frankie dotes softly. “Ok, ok— enough about my adorable baby. Where is your adorable boyfriend? Where is he?”

“How do you know he’s my boyfriend now?”

“Because you look like _that_.” Frankie answers obviously as if it’s not really much of a question at all. “Now please, Lou! Go get the man!”

Louis sighs, but still ends up smiling again as he moves toward the door. “Calm down, love. I’m _going_!”

“Lou, you better come right back here with him or I swear to god—”

“I _will_! Fuck...” Louis promises yet again. God, she’s like an annoying sister who won’t rest until her wishes are granted. But it’s really nice that she supports him and genuinely seems to care so much about him, she just has a demanding sisterly way of showing it.

It turns out to be perfect timing actually, because Avery is getting a diagnostic test done in the lab and Harry is as free as can be. They walk into Frankie’s hospital room together and she’s not in her bed as Louis left her, instead she’s right by the door like some kind of goon, and Louis hates her—but he also loves her. Louis can’t even open his mouth to introduce her to Harry, because Frankie takes matters right into her own hands, which he probably should have expected.

“Harry!” She throws her arms around his body, hugging him right away as if she’s known him her entire life. “Aww you have no idea how much I wanted to meet you."

“Too much, I’d say. Way too fucking much.” Louis rolls his eyes, trying to be annoyed but he’s sorta, kinda a little bit endeared. “Honestly H, she’s been obsessed with you since I told her you existed in my life. Which I think you will agree is weird.”

“Um, I’m not going to apologize for wanting you to be happy.” Frankie rolls her eyes back at him exaggeratedly to prove a point. “Oh my fuck, but look at us, Harry!” She squeals, clapping her hands right to his face. “You’re like my mirror image. Obviously, we are going to be best friends.”

Harry beams down at Frankie, looking completely enchanted by her. “How can you be so sure?”

“Have you seen your face in relation to my face? How could we not be besties? Louis, why didn’t you tell me that Harry could be my evil twin?”

“Hey, why do I have to be the evil one?” Harry pouts slightly.

“Because you’re a man and men are inherently evil.” Frankie says as if it’s obvious.

Harry laughs, turning over his shoulder to Louis. “I love her?”

“She’s special isn’t she.” Louis grins.

“But Lou, seriously you should have told me.” Frankie says again, slipping her arm around Harry’s middle. “Harry is like a dream come true. I always wanted a twin growing up.”

“Aww, me too. People always said my sister and I could have been twins. But I never completely saw it...not really...” Harry starts, and Louis can practically feel him about to go off on a random tangent “And then one time…when I was in Bordeaux, France, I met this one guy and we looked seriously alike, it was trippy.”

“Oh my _god_ —I’m a chef and I finished culinary school in France, near there!” Frankie gasps with wide eyes, looking up to him excitedly. “Parlez-vous françias?”

Harry makes the exact same excited face. “Oui!”

And that sends them into a complete fit, both of them squealing before going back and forth like long lost friends in French. Louis watches them chat and giggle with each other, without a single clue as to what on earth they are talking about. But they’re both so animated and expressive, it’s sort of amusing to watch. But after five minutes, he has to clear his throat just to remind them that he still exists.

“Oh, I’m sorry Lou, we didn’t mean to exclude you.”

“He can’t be left out.” Frankie teases.

“That’s not true.” Louis frowns a little. “I actually just wanted to say that I have to get back to work so…”

“Oh ok, bye babe.” Harry presses a brief kiss to his cheek. “Have a good day.”

And then they go right back to chatting incessantly with each other animatedly, paying Louis no further mind. Louis may have just created two dimpled green-eyed twin monsters.

 

||☤||

 

“We should tell Avery, right?” Harry asks, processing out loud as he pushes around his cafeteria grade Caesar salad.

Louis met Harry for lunch out on the hospital courtyard. He’s been crazy busy all week since getting back into the full swing of work, overflooded with a backlog of patients. And because of that, they haven’t had the chance to go on any more dates together, so Louis has been meeting Harry whenever he has a free moment at random times throughout the day.

“Like officially…she should know about us…” Harry continues thinking out loud. “Right?”

“Yeah, I think she should.” Louis nods agreeably, pouring a handful of Skittles into his palm. Yes, he probably should be eating a real meal, and Harry has already told him as much, but Skittles are and will always be his favorite in between surgery snack. “I mean we’re in a relationship now, I think that warrants a conversation.”

“You’re right.” Harry decides, going back and forth with himself. “It’s not too soon though?”

“Harry, love, she’s a smart girl. She probably already knows.” Louis says next. Honestly, they are almost definitely overthinking this whole thing for no reason. Avery knew from the moment she first met Louis again that Harry knew him from the past. She’s an observant girl, she’s certainly figured out by now that he and Harry are officially boyfriends.

“Yeah...probably…that’s true…yeah…” Harry agrees again, before presenting yet another question. “Ok, but what exactly are we telling her? Nothing is really changing for her, right?”

“No, nothing is changing for her.” Louis assures. “We don’t want to overwhelm her or anything.”

“Exactly, because too many changes could be stressful. And she’s already been through so much stress this year.”

“I know, yeah.” Louis nods. “We’ll just tell her that we’re dating and that we love her and we aren’t going to make any big changes or anything.”

“Ok.” Harry agrees, exhaling heavily as he pushes around the same crouton in his salad container. “That sounds good...”

“Good.” Louis nods, finishing the last of his candy.

Harry bites his lip for a moment before turning to Louis again. “Can we do it now?”

“You want to tell her right now?” Louis questions in surprise.

“Yes, I really do because every time I see her, I almost say it on accident and I have to keep catching myself and it's so exhausting and I just can’t take it anymore, Lou.” Harry admits in a rush, sounding unnecessarily stressed and nervous.

Louis stands up right away and takes Harry’s hand in his. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait— _Right now_ , right now?” Harry suddenly pales, even though he just suggested it a second ago.

“Yes, Harry!” Louis smiles, finding him so adorable. “You just said you wanted to do it.”

“Right, yeah...ok…yeah…” Harry nods his head repeatedly. “Let’s do it, then.”

“It’s really alright, love.” Louis reassures, squeezing Harry’s hand. “She knows already, I’m sure of it. It’s no big deal.”

“You really think so?”

“Oh, babe, I would bet money on it, honestly.”

Harry follows Louis through the hospital corridors to Avery’s room and they find Avery beading bracelets on the small couch in the corner. She’s been feeling so much better recently that she hardly even stays in the hospital bed anymore, much to the nurses’ exasperation.

“Hi Daddy, hi Louis!” Avery greets, sitting up on the couch when she sees them.

“Hi Aves, how are you?”

“Really good!” Avery smiles, proudly holding up the lavender bracelet she’s working on. “I’m making another bracelet for Nurse Julie to say I’m sorry.”

“Avie, what did you do now?” Harry asks her, lips pursed.

“I got out of bed.” Avery admits, making a guilty expression.

“But love, you’re out of bed right now.” Louis points out, grinning.

“Shh, please don’t tell her.” Avery whispers seriously. “I’m just tired of being in bed all the time.”

“Oh Avery.” Louis and Harry both sigh together.

But it’s sort of funny to Louis because her mother was the exact same way. Whenever Gemma was feeling good, no one could keep her in that bed unless she was literally restrained. Like mother, like daughter. “You really should listen to your nurses. It’s for your safety, Aves. Can you please get back in your bed, love?”

Avery exhales heavily, letting out a heavy gust of annoyed breath. “ _Fine_.”

She gets up from the loveseat and climbs back into her hospital bed as she’s told.

“Thank you.” Louis smiles at her appreciatively. He doesn’t want to get her hopes up too soon, but with how well she’s been doing, he may be able to discharge her any day now. He’s just waiting on the results of a few more tests.

Louis and Harry sit on opposite sides of Avery’s bed, leaving her in the middle between them. Harry glances over to Louis and Louis nods at him encouragingly.

“Avery, baby, we want to talk to you about something.” Harry starts out slowly.

“Ok.” Avery looks up at her dad expectantly. “What is it?”

Harry swallows, biting his lip a bit and Louis thinks it’s so cute how nervous he gets about things like this. He has his daughter at such a high priority and her happiness means everything to him. “Avie…Louis and I are—”

“Getting married!” Avery bursts enthusiastically, finishing how she thinks his sentence should end.

Harry and Louis both blush, glancing up at each other. Louis grins over at him, finding it more amusing than anything else.

“Erm, not quite, Aves.” Louis smiles down at her. “But we are together now, as a couple and we wanted you to know that.”

“We love you so much and we didn’t want to overwhelm you with changes or anything like that.” Harry adds.

Avery looks back and forth between them, smiling wide. “Does that mean that once I get discharged that I can come over and spend the night and hang out with Benny and bake loads of cookies and watch movies all night and have Louis’ tea and go places together like shopping or to the beach or the park or Disneyland or—” She’s rattling off things a mile a minute, talking so fast Louis doesn’t even think she is keeping up with herself. But he’s endeared regardless.

“Anytime, little love.” Louis kisses her cheek adoringly.

She squeals, beaming excitedly like all her wishes have been granted and that’s definitely the best reaction either of them could have hoped for.

 

||☤||

 

It’s an exciting day. A rare kind of joyous, exciting day because after all these long weeks filled with hopeless days and tireless nights, Avery is finally being discharged from SSMC.

Every day Louis has been diligently reviewing her charts and scans and conducting all sorts of diagnostic and cognitive tests and he’s continually blown away each time by how well the virus that he surgical injected into her brain has taken to her tumor. Or what’s left of her tumor. From all the analysis and research Louis did beforehand, he knew that if it ended up working, it would probably work fast, but he couldn’t have hoped that it would ever work _this_ fast.

At this rate, not only does she get to go home, she may not even need an extra round of chemotherapy. It would be better if she didn’t need it, because Louis is worried about the overall level of toxicity her body is exposed to and he’d much rather not have to put her through anything else. Instead, he has a plan to prescribe all her final medication dosing through a regimen of capsules and tablets that she can take at home. He’s going to monitor how she adjusts to the new oral meds and if need be, they can always resort to chemo. But if not, they can scale back, finish up her round of meds, and be done with it all for fucking good.

Louis hasn’t told Harry yet, wanting to surprise him, but he’s eager to see his reaction. Avery has been wanting to go home for so long, it’s been a winding road of ups and downs, but the day has finally come, and Louis couldn’t be more excited.

Louis goes into the patient room with Wesley at his side, closing the heavy door behind them. Harry looks up from his book curiously, clearly not expecting to see Louis right now.

“Look at you sitting in your bed. What a good patient you are, Avery.” Louis teases, winking at her.

“Daddy made me stay today.” Avery grumbles sighing, as she crosses her hands over her chest. “I’d much rather not be in this bed, if I had my way.”

“Munchie, it’s just not safe for you to be jumping in and out of bed all day.” Harry tells her, saying it as though he’s said it a thousand times today alone. “There’s rules for a reason.”

Avery just sighs heavily again, looking like she’s been given some sort of prison sentence.

“Well Aves, I do have some news for you that might make it a little better.” Louis sits on the side of Avery’s bed as he typically does.

Avery stops frowning and meets Louis’ eyes. “Ok.”

“Dr. Wesley, would you like to do the honors please?” Louis requests, she’s been here through each step of the way and he thinks it’s only fitting that she announce the news.

“Avery, I’m happy to inform you that according to your latest scans and biopsy results, you are just about tumor free. Your tumor continues to shrink and the current size of it is no longer a threat, which means that you’re getting discharged today. Yay!” Charlie smiles widely, genuinely happy for her patient. “And the best part is that you won’t need to start another round of chemotherapy. You'll still need to come in for routine checkups and we have a med regimen for you to follow until all the cancer cells are gone or benign but—”

Harry engulfs Charlie in a body crushing hug before she can even finish talking. His expression is emotional and teary eyed, but so very happy and his smile makes Louis’ heart want to burst. “Thank you.”

Avery eyes widen in absolute disbelief, appearing stunned by the news and she looks right to Louis for confirmation and he nods at her, an uncontrollable smile spreading his lips apart.  

“You get to go home, Aves.” Louis whispers to her softly.

He’s waited so long to be able to finally tell her that, knowing how much she wanted it, how much her dad wanted it, fuck—how much he wanted it too. And the beautifully relieved look on her face makes every last thing so very worth it.

Avery lodges herself into his arms, face buried against his scrubs. Louis wraps both of his own around her back, holding her with his chin hooked over her shoulder and he can’t seem to stop smiling.

She pulls back, looking up at Louis again like she’s still a bit in shock, like she somehow never expected him to actually say that, like she’d still been somewhat doubtful and unbelieving even after her surgery, even after how much better she’d been feeling recently. But it all seems to hit Avery at once, and Louis can see the emotion building on her face and behind her golden eyes before the tears start leaking from them.

Avery starts sobbing and Louis pulls her right back against his chest, holding her head as he tries to soothe her. She’s been though a lot, far too much, and Louis can only imagine how overwhelming it all has been for her.

“I’m just gonna give you all a moment.” Charlie excuses herself from the room and Harry moves to sit near Louis on Avery’s bed.

“Aww sweetheart, it’s ok.” Harry comforts gently, rubbing Avery’s back as he leans closer. “You’re ok, honey.”

“We really beat it?” Avery cries, gazing up at both of them as she sniffles, eyes red and wet.

“We really beat it.” Louis nods and it pulls at his heart when he thinks of her still unable to believe that she’s overcome this, believe that she really is going to live. His own eyes start burning, lining with saltwater. “It’s over. You’re gonna get to go back to doing all of your favorite things. You can go to school again and be with your friends and make even more friends...You get to grow up and become whoever you want to be and do whatever you want to do with your life.” He describes, voice emotionally wavering in his throat. “You can do _anything_ , Aves.”

And that’s when Harry tears up again, tracks streaming down his cheeks as he clutches Avery tighter.

“And best of all, you finally get to leave this stupid bed.” Louis smiles wetly, letting out a choked-up laugh.

Avery and Harry both laugh too, matching Louis’ expression. They’re all crying, holding on to each other tightly, unable to completely pull themselves together. But they don’t have to, they can all sit here and cry forever and ever if they want because this momentous victory is worth every last painstaking tear.

 

||☤||

 

Harry invites Louis over to his house that night so they can celebrate Avery’s discharge from the hospital. Avery is getting all settled in back at home and what better way to welcome her than to introduce her to someone who she’s been asking about since day one.

“Avery, come here for a second!” Harry calls down the hall for her. She’s apparently in the kitchen where she was helping Harry with dinner before Louis arrived.

“Yes?” Avery appears, breaking into a smile when she sees Louis and a happy shriek when she sees Benedict sat at his feet.

“Aves, I’ve brought a friend who is dying to meet you.” Louis announces with a grin.

“Benny!” Avery squeals again, dropping down to hug him right away. “You’re as pretty and cute as all the pictures I’ve seen of you!” Benedict jumps up and licks her face, tail wagging back and forth wildly. She sits back on her heels and Benedict wastes no time in squeezing his big bumbling self on her small lap, trying to get all of her attention. “Aww, I love you too!”

Harry and Louis watch them interact and smile dotingly because it’s honestly the sweetest thing. A match made in heaven.

“Sorry Daddy, I can’t help you make dinner anymore, I have to go entertain my own guests.” Avery decides, standing to her feet.

“Your own guests?”

“Yes. Benedict needs all of my attention, I’m sorry. “Avery explains, already on her way up the stairs with her new best friend right behind her. “Come on Benny, you’ll love my room.”

“He’s not coming back home with me tonight is he?” Louis asks in a rhetorical sort of way.

Harry shakes his head, grinning. “Oh, I highly doubt it.”

Louis laughs. “I knew he would love her. I wonder if he remembers her as a baby. I mean, he was just a puppy, but he was still pretty protective of her crib even then.”

“Hmm, maybe he does.” Harry considers. “I read that dogs don’t ever forget people.”

“Hmm.” Louis hums as well.

Harry turns to Louis fully. “So Lou, when can I take you out for our second date?”

Louis grins, leaning into him. “I see you are back to taking this courting thing seriously.”

“I did say that I would prove my love to you, no matter how long it takes.” Harry reminds with a slight smirk.

“But don’t you think you’ve won now that we’ve not only consummated our relationship several times over, but I’ve also entered an exclusive, established relationship with you?”

Harry considers that for half a second. “Mmm. No.”

Louis tilts his head at Harry incredulously, smiling.

“And you know how I feel about dating.” Harry says, referring to his Someday List.

“I do.” Louis nods, hands on his waist.

“So you must know that I’ll never be done wooing you, Louis Tomlinson.” Harry smiles wide, showing off his lovely deep dimples.

“You’re just so impossible, Harry Styles.”

 

||✚||

 

They’re on the couch, legs and feet twisted around each other, resurrecting a timeless tradition of theirs for their second official date. And that tradition is none other than the uniquely treasured delicacy of ice cream and wine. Avery is asleep upstairs and they’re trying to be quiet but they’re failing more and more with each sip. Between the two of them, they’ve nearly finished three whole bottles of horribly cheap wine and two pints of ice cream. It’s safe to say that they’re getting tipsier by the second, giggling with each other about nothing at all behind their spoons.

“Lou.”

“H.”

“Lou.” Harry’s smile widens gradually, dimples deepening like he has a host of burning secrets inside.

“H?” Louis narrows his eyes curiously, but still manages to match Harry’s smile.

“Louis!” Harry’s smile is totally full now, eyebrows raised animatedly.

“Harry!”

“Let’s go on vacation!” Harry announces, excitement ringing clear in his voice.

“What? Now?” Louis blinks, setting down his pint in his lap for a moment.

Harry nods with wide eyes. “Yes, now.”

“Are you drunk?”

“I dunno? Um? Maybe? But I’m serious! You and me and Avery. Let’s go to Europe!”

“You’re…serious?” Louis asks again skeptically.

“Yes, I’m serious! It’s the beginning of summer, which is the perfect time because Avery is out of school—she can travel, right? Did you clear her to travel?”

“Yeah, she can but…” Louis pauses, and from the creased tilt of his features Harry can tell he’s thinking seriously about something.

“We can take some time away for us. I’ve been promising her a trip to Europe forever and I don’t know…I just don’t want to wait anymore.” Harry explains. “And it would be so much better if you came along too.”

Louis’ face still doesn’t match Harry’s enthusiasm, so Harry dials it back a bit. “But um…I don’t want to pressure you though, like if you have work or you know…”

Louis shakes his head slightly, still looking downward at the pint of ice cream in his lap. “No, it’s not that…I um…”

Harry waits quietly for Louis to finish. Louis is so thoughtful about every single thing he says, and Harry is learning that sometimes he should just wait when Louis pauses like that because eventually Louis will tell him as he processes whatever is going on in his head.

Louis is digging his spoon around in what’s left of his ice cream, picking at it anxiously. “I…I haven’t been back to England since…um…”

Realization sobers Harry right up in an instant and he can’t believe he mindlessly overlooked it. Of course Louis would be apprehensive towards returning back. It’s what made him leave in the first place. “Oh, Lou—I’m sorry, baby I didn’t mean to—fuck, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s alright….” Louis shakes his head, lifting his gaze back up to Harry. His eyes are stormy, maybe even a bit distant as though he's only partially in the moment. “…It would be good, I think…” His voice is so very quiet, introspective. “Yeah. I should go back…”

“Louis, you really don’t have to.” Harry crawls across the couch to be closer to him. “I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything…especially if you don’t feel ready.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready…but I don’t think you can ever really be fully ready for anything that happens in life…” Louis answers in that same quiet voice. “So...I’m going to do it—I want to do it.”

“You’re sure?” Harry questions in concern, holding Louis’ hand dearly as he studies his face. This is huge for him, absolutely huge. It's such a big step and Harry knows that he’s scared, how could he not be after all that has happened to him? Louis' fingers tremor ever so slightly and Harry only grips him tighter, wanting so much just to settle his fears in any way he can.

Louis takes a long look at Harry and before he even says anything else his eyes flicker and waver a few times, a storm flashing behind his gaze as though internally fighting himself back and forth on it. But he still looks so determined of the choice he’s making, and Harry is so proud of him.

“I want to go with you.”

 

||☤||

 

And so, they take a trip across the Atlantic Ocean to explore Europe.

Louis hasn’t taken a single vacation leave in all the many years he’s worked at SSMC and he has so many paid vacation days accumulated that the H.R. department is practically begging him to leave. And since it’s the summer, Harry and Louis decide to dedicate an entire month to their trip, thirty-five days specifically.

Their European tour is composed of stops of differing lengths at fifteen major cites. They planned it all out together from start to finish, selecting cities from Amsterdam all the way down to Athens and everywhere in between.

They start their tour in France, specifically Bordeaux because Harry adores it so much and because he is adamant about Louis finally having real wine. Louis calls him a wine snob every chance he gets, and Harry just thinks it’s hilarious.

They live the life of true tourists, taking unnecessary pictures of literally everything and wearing obnoxious hats and matching t-shirts as they see the landmarks from country to country. The food is incredible, and the people are wonderful, and the sights are so beautiful, and the days seem to just fly by ridiculously fast.

And the very last stop on their lengthy European excursion is England. They travel to Harry’s hometown of Holmes’s Chapel first, and Avery gets a chance to see the town where Gemma and Harry grew up.

Avery loves every minute of it, asking so many questions about all the different places Harry lived as a young foster child. Harry tells her everything she wants to know and more, completely open with her about his life and his past and his sister.

And when that’s all said and done, they take a final trip to Doncaster.

Harry asks Louis repeatedly if he’s absolutely sure that he wants to visit his hometown, assuring him that they don’t have to do it if he’s not ready to. But Louis promised himself that if he agreed to coming along on this whole European tour, he had to stop home.

With one hand linked with Harry’s and the other held tightly by Avery, Louis visits the gravestones of his family. He’s only ever been here once before, nearly eighteen years ago. A broken-hearted teenager on a path to numbing himself beyond feeling or reproach, laying the foundation to walls he’s only now beginning to tear down as an adult.

The last time he stood here, alone and terrified to move, Louis remembers wanting so many things. Wanting to lie down against the earth and dig a plot of his own, wanting to be with them instead of breathing in breath after breath above ground without them. And Louis remembers walking away from this place in anger, having not shed a single tear. He was hurt and distraught, feeling resentful of himself, irrationally angry at himself for not doing more, not saying more before it was too late.

It’s odd how emotions and feelings can lie dormant in one place, suspended in time as though waiting for the day you return to claim them. Everything Louis ever felt the last time he stood on this soil, claws at his heart once again, inundating his conscious mind with memories long locked away.

His chest constricts to the point where he nearly feels faint, like he’s suffocating. His stance is shaky and hardly balanced on his own two feet and there’s such a profound and direly strong urge to run stirring inside his veins, run away from this place yet again and never look back.

“Remember you’re brave, Louis.” Avery looks up at him, expression gentle and comforting as she holds tightly to his trembling hand. “And if you don’t feel very brave, I’ll be brave for you and so will Daddy.”

Harry is right there, calm and reassuring in the way he leans against Louis’ side, holding him up and pouring out the strength Louis can’t find. He presses a long kiss to his temple, lingering near as he whispers soft reassurances to his ear. “I’m right here, baby. You’re not alone this time.”

Louis closes his heavy eyes and nods, breathing deep the air to fill his lungs. It’s not something he ever imagined himself doing, revisiting his past, opening up old wounds. Far too afraid of it. When he left years ago, he closed the door on that part of his life for good with no intention of reopening it for any reason. Louis has come a long way since then and he knows he wouldn’t be standing here right now if it wasn’t for the love and support and understanding of the two people holding his hands.

Pain is hard to conceptualize, hard to comprehend and even harder to face. The way it manifests takes on so many indistinguishable forms, weaving its way in and out of all areas of life. It has the potential to haunt you forever, lingering in the far corners of your mind, leaping to the forefront when you least expect it to. Nothing Louis could ever do will bring them back, but day by day, Louis is finding that if he opens his heart to it, there can be healing in the pain, healing in the broken emptiness that he thought could never feel whole again.

And he doesn’t have to heal alone, he doesn’t have to face those layers of hurt and pain by himself, he doesn’t have to absorb all the dark, painful feelings that still come over him from time to time. It’s ok to let himself feel it, it’s ok to let himself show it, and it’s ok to let himself grow from it.

Louis curls himself against Harry, burying his face to his chest as the tears Louis was certain would come, the tears he couldn’t bear to shed when he first came here, begin to trickle down his cheeks in hot waves. Harry holds him tightly, arms completely secured around his fame, grounding Louis as he finally grieves the loss he wasn’t ready to before.

Harry runs his hand up and down Louis’ spine softly, rocking him slightly on his feet. Avery is still holding Louis’ closest hand, standing so near to him as she thumbs over his palm. And Louis is so grateful for them, so happy that he has them in his life to be there for him in times like these when he really needs it.

Avery presses a kiss to the back of Louis’ hand before releasing it. And true to her promise, she decides to be brave for Louis, approaching the rows of gravestones.  She kneels down by each one and gently lays a flower over the stone plaques. Louis watches as she takes time to whisper something special to each one, and although he can’t hear exactly what she says, it tugs right at his heart, he loves her so much. Avery blows each of his sisters a sweet kiss before moving on to the next one.

And when she finally gets to his mother’s, he hears Avery thank her for Louis.

  

||☤||

 

When they get back to Seattle everything begins to change, change for the better, Louis thinks. The summer months are coming to a close, which means the start of a host of new beginnings, most notably, the start of a new school year for Avery. It’s all she talks about, beyond elated to be starting third grade with all of her friends and peers. She missed out on a lot of her second grade experience, doing most of her work from the hospital or at home by herself. But this year Avery has the chance to have a normal school experience and get involved with everything her school has to offer and Harry and Louis couldn’t be happier for her.

Things begin to fall into routine for them. Just as he repeatedly said he would, Harry courts Louis, seriously courts him—dating the shit out of him as Harry so often likes to say, next level courting. And Louis loves it, he loves every second of it. They count them, they count each and every date they have together, making a spectacle about it no matter how insignificant the date activity might be or how short it may last due to a lack of time or busy schedules. They both agree that what matters most is that they get to spend time together. They decide that they’ll resume their date numbers at Date 4 and consider their whole 35-day trip as just Date 3 because it’s just easier to keep track of that way.

They didn’t even do much for Date 4 though, lounging around the house with Avery while trying and failing to teach Benedict new tricks. It was a laid-back date, hilarious from the moment it started, and of course, perfect. For their sixth date they go for a ferryboat ride and Harry somehow gets seasick from it, which Louis does not understand at all because the boat is moving at a fucking snail’s pace.

Date 12 holds a very heated game of scrabble between he and Harry, heated meaning it somehow led to sex. Neither of them knows how that exactly happened, but it did, and they regret nothing. Date 17 is a busy day for Louis with back to back surgeries all day long and they only have time for a morning run together, which led to hot shower sex because everything seems to fall back there. On their 21st date they resurrect cheap wine and ice cream night yet again, beginning to make a habit of it as one of their usual date night activities.

Date 28 didn’t originally start out as a date, but somehow it sort of turned into one. Avery’s school is hosting a back to school fair to raise money for a variety of local causes and charities. They do it every year and each of the students are responsible for a booth and Harry has been tasked specifically by Avery to run a cupcake stand. So according to his many texts, Harry has been trapped in the kitchen all day. Avery was apparently helping him at first, but then around their ninth batch, she got tired and fell asleep on the couch, which Harry sent Louis a cute picture of.

Harry then called Louis and asked him to bring over more eggs and sugar after work and of course Louis couldn’t just drop off the groceries and leave. So that’s how he ended up sat atop the kitchen counter with Harry wedged between his dangling legs.

“You’ve got so much flour in your hair.” Louis grins, wiping a smudge of what is probably frosting from Harry’s chin.

“I think I may be turning into a cupcake.” Harry admits, shaking out his curls.

“ _Or_ maybe you always were a cupcake and you are now returning to your original form.” Louis teases, locking his ankles around Harry’s waist.

Harry giggles, hands resting on the counter on either side of Louis’ hips as he leans in closer. “Come with me tomorrow?”

“Of course, love. After all your texts, I cleared my schedule for it.”

Harry smiles appreciatively. “Really?”

“Selling goods baked by my favorite wannabe baker? No place I’d rather be.”

“I’m just gonna let that little comment slide.” Harry’s smile morphs into a pout. “I may not be serious enough to own a bakery, but I’d like to think that I’m a pretty good baker.”

“Ok, Betty Croker.” Louis smirks, tightening his legs around Harry. “And I mean that as a compliment, by the way. You’re not just pretty good, H. You’re amazing and you could open up a bakery if you wanted to.”

“Mmm, well thank you.” Harry closes the rest of the space separating their lips. “I appreciate that, babe.”

Based on the sheer amount of cupcakes Harry has baked and frosted, he is well on his way to starting his own bakery right here and now in his kitchen. And Louis has stolen and tasted enough of them behind Harry’s back to know that they’re amazing and there’s no way they won’t completely sell out at the fair.

By the time the school fair starts bright and early the next morning, they have more than enough perfectly frosted cupcakes to sell for the booth, which makes Avery extremely happy.

They’re under a tent with a long table that Avery has decorated with the cutest signs and banners, and Harry and Louis have strategically arranged all the different cupcake flavors, so they should be irresistible to any innocent, passerby fairgoer.  

Even Avery’s third grade teacher stops by to compliment how nice and lovely their cupcake booth looks and Avery takes it as the perfect opportunity to introduce her to Louis and Harry.

“This is my Daddy, but you already know him from Back to School Night I think…and this is my Louis.” Avery introduces proudly.

“Hi, I’m her Louis.” Louis offers his hand to her teacher for a shake, smiling. He probably would have met her during Back to School Night too, but he was on-call that evening.

“Oh, so you’re Louis.” The teacher beams back at him. “Avery speaks so highly of you. She just shared with the class the story of how you saved her life. It’s so touching. Thank you both for coming and helping out.”

Louis gives her a wide smile back, honored that Avery goes around talking about him and that she wanted to make sure that her teacher knew who he is to her. Avery’s teacher doesn’t stick around for too long, most likely having plenty of other things to attend to and it gives Harry, Louis, and Avery time to put the last touches on their cupcake booth.

“Alright, well, I think you have it under control now.” Avery claps her hands together once and starts to leave the booth, leaving Harry and Louis both extremely confused.

“Excuse me little missy, where are you going?” Harry frowns.

“I have to go help out over there with the cotton candy booth.” Avery explains, pointing across the way.

“You’re leaving us?”

“Just like that?”

“I’m in the science club, so I have to help that booth too.” Avery tells them. “Will you be ok without me?”

“No, I’ll never make it. Please don’t leave me alone with your dad, trapped here in this pink booth.” Louis jokes, pulling a direly worried face.

“Louis.” Avery giggles, shaking her head fondly at him.

Louis grins slowly. “Bye, love. Have fun.”

“We won’t let you down, Munchie.” Harry promises, waving to her as she runs off towards her friends in her club.

“What do you mean? How could we let her down?” Louis wonders, turning to Harry. “Don’t we just need to man this booth and make sure it doesn’t burn down or something?”

“So yesterday, Avery made it very clear to me that we have to sell all of these cupcakes by the end of the day so she can raise the most money in her class. Because the person who raises the most apparently gets to choose the charity for this year and she really wants to be that person.”

“Well obviously, whatever Avery wants, she must have.” Louis teases, but he’s also completely serious. If it is within Louis’ power, he will stop at nothing to get it for her. “We have to help her win, H.”

“How about we make it interesting and you and me have a little competition too.”

“I’m listening...”

“Ok, so since we need to sell all of these cupcakes, how about we see who can sell the most, the fastest?” Harry suggests, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Oh, you’re _so_ on.” Louis challenges, narrowing his eyes. “That’s an easy win.”

“Ok, but why the fuck are you so confident about winning?” Harry frowns at him. “You know I literally work in marketing for a living, I can sell anything.”

“Um ok?” Louis shrugs as though unconvinced. “No one can resist my charm, I’m like, an amazing salesperson. Don’t test me.” 

Harry can’t suppress his laughter. “You’re a surgeon, Louis!”

“ _And_?”

“And…what could you possibly know about selling things?”

“Oh please, love. I have to sell myself all the time just to get funding for all of my out of the box ideas. I’m also very competitive. Don’t underestimate me, H.”

“I would never dream of it.” Harry grins, looking far too amused. “I guess we will see what happens.”

“Yes, we will see.” Louis holds up his chin confidently. “Wait, wait. What is my prize for winning?”

 _“Your_ prize?” Harry raises an eyebrow, smirking.

 _“The_ prize.” Louis corrects, rolling his eyes. “Whatever.”

“A cupcake, obviously.”

“What kind of cupcake though?” Louis presses in suspicion. “Is this even worth my time?”

“Vanilla. Raspberry filled.” Harry describes with dramatic pauses, holding up the cupcake in question. “ _With_ sprinkles.”  

“Hmm.” Louis inspects it thoroughly, stroking his chin as though it’s such a hard decision to make. “Ok. Deal.”

Harry holds his hand out for a shake to seal the deal. “Best of luck to you.”

“My condolences on losing.” Louis replies with a bowed nod.

“You’re so ridiculous.” Harry laughs fondly. “But I’m also slightly turned on by you being cocky, so I’ll allow it.”

“Good.” Louis smirks, cocking an eyebrow. “I have you right where I want you. You won’t even see me coming.”

Harry continues laughing at Louis’ expense and Louis wants to smash a cupcake in his face just to shut him up.

“Laugh it up now, because you won’t be laughing so hard when I win this.” Louis states confidently, sliding several stacks of cupcake boxes across the table. “I’ll just be taking these to my side of the booth.”

“What is that like nine dozen cupcakes? Really Louis? That’s a bit much don’t you think?”

“Keep on underestimating me, Harry.” Louis gives him a sideways glance. “Just keep it up.”

They get a wide range of customers to their booth right away of course, because who can deny a cupcake? But the challenging part is getting them to buy their delicious cupcakes from Louis instead of from Harry.

Harry has a way of talking with people that makes them gravitate to him, he’s engaging and bubbly and charismatic. Honestly, if this wasn’t a competition Louis would buy a shit ton of cupcakes from him because he’s just that good. At one point, Louis watches Harry blatantly flirt with an elderly woman, flashing his devilish dimples whenever he can. He’s a cheater basically and Louis is not having it, so it’s time for him to stop playing nice and turn up the god-given charm he was born with.

Louis then starts to flirt with anyone who so much as glances at their booth, even those who don’t. He beckons over strangers with a witty joke or a perfectly timed smile, shameless batting an eyelash or two. It works as it always does and Louis decides to take it up a notch, leaving the booth completely to take a whole tray of cupcakes over to a group of dads at the hot dog booth. Louis charms his way into getting them to buy every single cupcake on his tray and he did it without even breaking a sweat. Obviously, Louis’ still got it.

When he leaves the hot dog booth, Louis cockily struts back to Harry, smirking as he spins the empty tray around in his hands. “And that’s how it’s done. A dozen cupcakes sold in less than two minutes.”

“What the fuck just happened?” Harry stands at a loss, watching Louis incredulously. “What did you say to them?”

“Oh darling, that’s not something I’m going to tell you, my competition.” Louis proudly deposits his recent earnings into the safety box and tallies up his rising score.

“Does everyone just fall in love with you or…?”

“I don’t know…but you did.” Louis shrugs in a coy sort of way. “Anyway, I’ve got more cupcakes to sell.”

“Bye, I guess.” Harry frowns, a tad bitter.

“You know what actually?” Louis pulls out his wallet and drops a crisp $100 bill into Harry’s tip jar.

“Did you really just tip me $100?” Harry laughs in disbelief.

Louis rests a mock consoling hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You’re trying your best and as your competition I just want you to know that I recognize that. I can see that you’re trying.”

“Oh, what a respectful competitor you are.” Harry nods sarcastically. “Thank you so very much for recognizing my efforts.”

“Mmm, well actually it’s not really about you so…” Louis shrugs, turning away. “I'm a huge fan of charity and I also love Avery. I really want her to raise the most money and if she’s relying on you, that might not happen.”

“I hate you.”

“Alright well carry on, mate.” Louis carts off even more cupcakes this time, finding that he can sell them even easier if he goes up to people. It’s like a surprise attack that they can’t seem to say no to, especially not with how Louis strategically propositions them. And it definitely proves to be the perfect winning strategy because before long he’s once again sold all of his cupcakes.

By the end of the day when their booth is completely sold out, Harry and Louis each tally up their final score.

“So, with the last dozen I just sold to that mom over there, my grand total is up to one hundred and forty-eight cupcakes, sold by yours truly.” Louis announces, turning towards Harry with his arms crossed over his chest. “And how many did you sell, marking specialist Harry Styles?”

“One hundred and thirty-nine.” Harry answers begrudgingly with a defeated sigh. “You win.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You won.”

“One more time for me, love.” Louis leans a bit closer. “I think I misheard you.”

“Louis Tomlinson, I crown you the winner of our cupcake war.” Harry proclaims, properly presenting Louis with his cupcake.

“Oh my god, I won? Thank you, thank you—oh you’re too kind, hold the applause.” Louis theatrically pretends to be received by a host of awaiting cameras and applause, holding his free hand over his face. “Oh stop, it’s all _sooo_ unexpected. Ah, I’m not ready.”

“There is literally no applause.” Harry says flatly.

Louis exaggeratedly holds an emotional hand over his mouth, as if he’s just so moved. “Wow, where to start. Um, I’d like to thank The Cupcake Academy for this prestigious honor, wow, wow—this cupcake really proves what downright hard work can get you in this baked goods industry. “

“Please enough.” Harry bites back a laugh as he listens to Louis’ award winning speech. “I get it, I underestimated you.”

“This is for my fucking fans, especially my number one fan which funnily enough was my competitor in this event.” Louis mimics looking up as if he’s overcome with raw emotion. “He always told me ‘Louis, you’re just a doctor in a baker’s world, you’ll never win’ and you know what? His words really stuck with me and he’s the reason I’m standing here today, a _winner_.” He starts fake crying, holding his cupcake with both hands as if it really is some kind of prestigious award. “Babe, if you’re watching at home, I _love_ you and you’re my reason. Also, eat my ass.”

“You really think you’re funny, huh?” Harry frowns, sounding bitter.

“God, yes. I’m so fucking funny.” Louis cackles to himself, milking his winning moment for all it’s worth. “Ok, but you know I’m such a good sport that I want to share my trophy winning cupcake with you, the love and light of my life.”

Harry eyes him skeptically. “Is that right?”

“Mhmm.” Louis nods honestly, holding his cupcake towards Harry gingerly. “Just open a little… yeah that’s it, baby…” But right when Harry gets close enough, Louis smashes the entire thing right in his face, smearing icing and rainbow-colored sprinkles everywhere as he’s been dreaming of doing all day long. 

“Oh…ok…so that’s what we’re doing now? Ok. Alright. Great. Thank you _sooo_ much, you’re really cute.” Harry nods his head sarcastically, buttercream coating his face.

“I am, aren’t I?” Louis beams happily, eyes crinkled. “You’re _sooo_ welcome, love. Anytime.”

“Ok, but Lou, I like sharing too.” Harry smiles mischievously, inching towards Louis slowly. “In fact, I _love_ sharing, especially with you.”

Louis starts to cautiously back away from Harry, shaking his head. “No, well see…I don’t like _too_ much sharing, you know what I mean? It’s ok, I think the moment has passed.”

“Please, just a little kiss.” Harry chases after Louis with his frosting coated lips puckered. “Just a little kiss to show you how much I care. I _love_ you! Let me love you!” 

“I appreciate the love, babe—I do, really…but no. No, thanks.” Louis adamantly protests, darting out of the booth and running away as Harry sprints after him.

When Harry catches him, he locks his arms around Louis waist, lifting him off the ground. Louis squeals and squirms as Harry kisses all over his once clean face, getting frosting and sprinkles all over him. They’re both giggling as Louis still tries to escape the hold of Harry’s strong arms.

“Um Lou, you got a little…” Harry gestures to his chin as he sets Louis back on the ground.

“Yeah? Fuck you, Harry.” Louis grins, wiping his face with the back of his hand. Although it’s useless, the sugary creme is literally everywhere now.

Harry laughs fondly. “You know what we should do?”

“Share all our love with Avery?” Louis smiles, matching Harry’s mischievous smile.

“Exactly.”

And that’s just what they do. Harry and Louis find her easily, helping pack up the cotton candy booth with one of her friends on the other side of the park. They wait for the perfect moment before counting down together and ambushing her in a surprise attack.

“Avery!” They exclaim at once, both nuzzling their faces on either side of Avery’s cheeks, covering her face with frosted kisses. She giggles happily, but she doesn’t try to fight them off at all, seeming to find it all more amusing than anything else.  

Harry hugs her tight. “We just wanted to show you how much we love you.”

“Do you feel loved?” Louis rubs his sticky cheek to Avery’s once again.

“Mhmm.” Avery tries to nod, but her face is being squished by both Harry and Louis, cheeks pressed together.

And of course it’s the perfect opportunity for a photo-op, the three of them laughing happily with each other all while sporting matching buttercream faces. And Louis definitely sets the picture as his phone’s new lockscreen.

 

||☤||

 

Harry and Louis’ thirtieth date ends up being a FaceTime date, because Harry has an emergency business meeting in Los Angeles for a new client. He’s officially back to his full hectic work schedule again now that all the dust has settled with his daughter. Louis and Avery cuddle up on the couch together, Benedict at their feet as they video chat with Harry. And when the call ends, the night turns into a special little Aves & Lou date. They stay up and eat junky snacks while watching movies together.

Since Harry is stuck in L.A., Avery is spending the rest of the week with Louis. It’s not a problem at all, Avery spends so much time over here with him anyways. One of the guest rooms is completely reserved for her and it’s quickly becoming filled up with random things and clothes that Avery leaves behind each time. Benedict is absolutely thrilled to say the least, he seems to love Avery more than him sometimes, following her everywhere she goes around the house.

They’ve just finished watching _Monsters Inc_., and they’re heading up the stairs to bed, Avery holding on to Louis’ hand.

“Louis?” Avery pauses halfway down the upstairs hallway.

“Yeah?”

“What’s in this room?” Avery wonders.

Louis turns around to see what she’s talking about and finds Avery curiously standing in front of the closed door to her nursery. A door he closed long ago and never once looked back. He stares at it for a long moment quietly.

“It’s um…well…it’s your nursery. Or I mean it was…” Louis stumbles a bit over his words, briefly remembering the last day he ever went inside that room. “Right before you came home from hospital, I put it together for you. I mean…it was never anything fancy, but um…yeah, it was for you.”

Avery pauses in thought, shifting her gaze from Louis’ face back to the door. “Can we go inside?”

“I don’t see why not.” Louis answers quietly. He’s not going to lie, he’s quite nervous about going in there again, it’s been  _years_. He walks by this door on a daily basis and tries not to think a thing of it. That was impossible to do at first, but as time went on, it became more bearable and eventually he started not to fixate on it so much. “It’s probably covered in all sorts of dust though, I haven’t been in there in a while.”

Louis keeps their hands joined together as he turns the knob of the door. It creaks with disuse as he gradually swings it wide open. The air inside the room is as stuffy as Louis expected it would be, and there is a clear layer of dust coating every surface. But other than that, it looks exactly like it did nine years ago, like some sort of time capsule and Louis is instantly taken aback by it.

But Avery is so in awe of everything, letting go of Louis’ hand to explore around the room that was once dedicated to her. Louis just watches her quietly, having not moved away from where he initially stopped by the door of the nursery.

“This was my crib?” Avery questions, standing near the old wooden frame. There are still a few random stuffed animals lining the inside it, long left behind.

“Yeah…not that you liked staying in there for too long.” Louis smiles reminiscently. “You’d much rather if I held you...” He pauses for a moment, turning his attention towards the rocking chair in the corner. Just seeing it drives all the memories to the very forefront of his thoughts. “I’d sit in that rocking chair and hold you all night sometimes.”

Avery sits down in the chair, rocking back and forth a few times to test it out. “It’s pretty comfy.”

“It is quite comfy isn’t it?” Louis chuckles lightly. “I loved that chair.”

Avery settles her gaze back on him, pausing her rocking. “Why haven’t you been in here to sit in it if you loved it so much?”

“I didn’t feel right without you, I suppose. Part of the reason I loved it is because it was where I spent the most time with you…and I um…” Louis blinks heavily, shaking his head as he feels a slight sting pulling at his eyes.

Avery gets up from the chair and crosses the room just to hug him. Her head is nuzzled against his stomach and she holds him as tightly as she can. “I’m here now.”

“You are.” Louis whispers quietly, eyes shining.  

“Sit with me?” Avery looks up at him hopefully.

Louis nods his head slowly, offering her a small smile. “Alright.”

Louis ventures further into the room, reaching the rocking chair. He hesitates for a second before sitting down in it. And it feels so familiar, achingly familiar. Except instead of a beautiful tiny baby in his arms this time, he has a beautiful little girl in his lap. Avery cuddles against him, the side of her face rested to his chest as she yawns sleepily. And Louis swears he could hold her just like this forever.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Louis softly kisses his lips to her cheek, pulling her even closer as she peacefully falls asleep. “My little heartbreaker.”

  

||✚||

 

Harry is just walking out of a meeting with a client when he gets a text from Louis that it’s an emergency. He calls him back right away, hands shaking, heart racing.

“Louis, what’s wrong?” Harry asks the very instant the call connects.

But it’s Avery’s voice that answers him. “Oh no, Daddy. It’s just me, I borrowed Louis’ phone.”

“Avie, honey, what’s wrong?” Harry worries, anxiously overanalyzing the sound of her voice to figure out what could be wrong. “Are you ok? Are you sick? What happened—”

“No!” Avery interrupts him. “I’m fine Daddy, I’m ok! Sorry, I just can’t find Lemon and I wanted to know if you know where he is? I need him.”

“Oh my god, don’t scare me like that, Avery.” Harry breathes out, holding his hand over his still wildly beating heart. He closes his eyes for a second just to calm down. “You said it was an emergency.”

“Sorry Daddy, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I promise.” Avery apologizes genuinely. “This is an emergency though, I really need my walrus! I need Lemon!”

“Oh Avie.” Harry sighs, she is literally _always_ misplacing that thing. God forbid something seriously happen to it and she loses it for good. She’d have a cow. “Well, have you checked the very bottom of your purple backpack?”

“Oh? No?” Avery considers for a moment. “Hold on…I’m gonna look. Don’t hang up.”

“Ok, Munch, I won’t.” Harry promises. More likely than not, her walrus is in there. Avery changes backpacks all week long because she likes to match them with her outfits. The problem with it is that she can never remember what she left behind in each bag.

“I found him! He’s safe!” Avery announces happily, cheering into the phone and he can practically see her dimpled smile. “Thanks Daddy!”

“Anytime, Aviebug.” Harry grins, glad that he could help. “So you just stole Louis’ phone? Where is he?”

“No Daddy, I _borrowed_ Louis’ phone.” Avery corrects pointedly. “And he’s making dinner. He makes a really yummy grilled cheese with, like, four cheeses in it. It’s the best.”

“Wow. Sounds like you’ve got quite a meal ahead of you.”

“Mhmm. I wish you were here too though.” Avery admits, a sad tilt to her voice. “I miss you, Daddy.”

“I know, I miss you too, bug.” Harry tells her, trying not to sigh over the phone. He hates that he’s across the coast working and not with her. “I’ll be home soon.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.” Avery promises sweetly.

Harry smiles, holding the phone tighter to his ear. All he wants is to fly home right now and cuddle her close to his chest. He hopes that this deal closes by the end of the week, so he can get on the first plane out of L.A.

 

||☤||

 

Sunday comes around and Avery and Louis have had a good week together. Louis made her breakfast and dropped her off at school every morning and in the evenings he would sit with her and help Avery with her homework. It all became just like routine, but today they’re just going to hang out together. Louis has no plans to go into the hospital and they’ve got a whole list of things to do that they came up with last night. Avery has decided that by the end of the day she wants to have gone to the aquarium, saw a really funny movie, and gotten two scoops of ice cream. Louis isn’t sure if that is the order she wants to do it in, but everything is up to her. He’s all hers for the day.

Avery is sitting on a stool at the island countertop eating cereal. She’s humming to herself, kicking her dangling legs back and forth as she bops around to some beat in her head.

“Mind if I join you?” Louis asks as he shuffles into the kitchen.

Avery turns her head towards him, noticing him for the first time. She beckons him over, patting the adjacent barstool for him to sit. She already has a bowl and a spoon set out for him next to her. “Cocoa puffs?”

Louis grins, hopping up on the barstool. “Why thank you, love.”

“Of course.” Avery smiles back, sliding the cereal box over to him.

“So what do want to do first, Aves?” Louis asks as he pours his cereal. “Maybe the aquarium? That should be really fun.”

“Definitely ice cream first.” Avery decides certainly.

Louis laughs fondly, sighing. “It’s 9 A.M, love. You’ve got such a morning sweet tooth.”

“I love ice cream and gelato and frozen yogurt. I’d eat it all day if I could.”

“I think everyone would.” Louis agrees as his phone dings, buzzing against the countertop. He lifts it up and immediately wants to chuck it at the wall, already knowing it’s probably work related. Thankfully, it’s not a crisis, just a message from Steve about a few charts and case notes he needs from him as soon as possible. It’s such a pain, charting. Louis considers it one of the worst parts of medicine. The mountains of paperwork and the endless case notes are the _worst_. He almost wishes it was a crisis instead.

“Hey Aves? I know we’ve got the whole day planned, but I’ve got to stop by the hospital really quick.” Louis tells her regretfully. “Is that alright, love? I’m really sorry, it’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.” Avery shrugs with a spoon hanging out of her mouth. She’s so easygoing, just happy to hang out.

Louis drops a kiss to her forehead. “We can get ice cream right after.”

And that’s how Louis ends up taking Avery to work. All the nurses constantly ask Louis about her, so Louis takes her to the nurse’ station on his floor so they can say hi to her. Avery gives hugs to all of them, seeming excited to see all her favorite nurses again. Louis sits at one of the station computers and updates the case notes for the charts The Chief is requesting. He’s just finishing up when Zayn strolls leisurely down the hall.

“What’s up, pretty lady?” Zayn holds his hand out to Avery for a high five.

Avery jumps up to slap his palm. “Hi Dr. Malik!”

“I’ve got myself a shadow today.” Louis smiles proudly at Avery at his side.

“Aww isn’t that just like old times. Zayn grins. “All you need is a harness strapped to your chest and a diaper bag.”

“Ha ha, you’re _so_ funny.” Louis deadpans. “Have you considered leaving Plastics for a career in comedy? Because you’re a shoo-in, mate. Really.”

“I have considered it, yeah. Be my manager maybe? Since you believe in me _so_ much.” Zayn smirks.

Louis uses his free hand to quickly flip Zayn off with his middle finger. “Anyway, I’m only here to sign off on a few charts. Avery and I are having a day together, aren’t we Aves?”

Avery nods, beaming at him. “Yep, we’re going to the aquarium and then to a movie and Louis promised that we would get ice cream first thing after this.”

“Ice cream sounds perfect.” Niall agrees, joining them. He waves specifically at Avery, face lighting up when he sees her. “Fancy meeting you here, Avery. Are you our newest little doctor?”

Avery giggles, shrugging. “Maybe some day.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” Niall grins. “When I’m old and retired I’m gonna look for you to be my doctor.”

“I’ll be your doctor.” Zayn offers. “I’m never retiring. Plastics can keep you young forever.”

Niall and Louis both roll their eyes and Niall looks back to Avery to shake his head. “Avery, please ignore that. I still want you as my doctor, not him.”

“Don’t be mad that you picked the wrong specialty. You both are sheep and Plastics is the superior specialty and that’s final.”

Louis is just about to argue, because how can he not refute such blasphemy, when Liam comes rushing by at a full sprint. “Oh Louis! Thank god I caught you—I need you. It’s urgent.”

“What is it?” Louis asks, already standing to his feet.

Liam has hardly slowed down, still moving down the hall. “It’s a spinal fracture, but there’s nerve damage and if he doesn’t get to surgery now, he could be left paralyzed.”

“I’ll be right there.” Louis nods automatically, instinct already kicking in. He glances back towards Niall and Zayn. “Lads, do you think that—”

“Yeah, yeah we remember the drill.” Niall answers easily, urging him on. “Go, she’s fine with us.”

Louis quickly bends down to Avery. “Aves, hang out here for a bit, ok love? I’ll be right back.”

“Ok.”

It doesn’t end up being a long procedure, well at least Louis’ part of it doesn’t. After he salvaged the spinal cord and innervation, Liam assured him that he had it all under control and practically kicked him out of his O.R. to go enjoy his day off with Avery. Something that Louis couldn’t say no to.

Louis heads to the attendings’ lounge, figuring that’s where they would probably be, and from the outside he overhears Zayn, Niall, and Avery all playing a board game together. He’s about to walk in, but something causes him to pause near the door for a moment.

“Dr. Horan and Dr. Malik?” Avery questions.

“You know, you don’t have to call us that.” Zayn tells her.

“I don’t? What should I call you then?”

“Well, Avery the way I see it, you’re family.” Niall explains. “Louis is like a brother to us. His family is our family too.”

Avery pauses, glancing between them both. “So that makes you…like…my uncles…”

“Yeah…” Niall offers a warm grin. “I suppose it does.”

“I’ve never had an uncle before.” Avery smiles slowly as she thinks about it.

“Well now you have three.” Zayn replies, wrapping his nearest arm over her shoulder. “And you can always count on us whenever you need us.”

A smile pulls at Louis’ lips too, heart-warmed by the sweet gesture of his best mates. And he knows it probably meant the world and more to Avery. She deserves people in her life who love and care about her and it’s wonderful that she’s starting to see that.

 

||✚||

 

Harry has never been happier to be home in Seattle. He’s only been gone for a week but somehow it feels like an eternity. Los Angeles hasn’t felt like home to him in a while, and come to think of it, it never really did. Everything about L.A. seems foreign and cold when he thinks about all that he has waiting for him back home. And Harry feels so incredibly lucky to be able to come home to a daughter he absolutely adores, a man he loves with everything he has and a goofy dog who never fails to steal his heart.

It’s perfect. Always perfect.

As is customary, Harry is greeted first by an eager mess of fur pawing at his legs incessantly. “Benedict.” He smiles, bending down to scratch behind his ears. But the dog seems to have other plans and he rolls over for Harry to give him a belly rub, which of course Harry obliges. “Aww, how’s it going, buddy? I missed you.”

Avery must hear his voice carrying through the house and she comes barreling down the hallway, squealing as she slides across the wood floor with her socked feet. “Daddy, you’re home!”

“Hi Munch!” Harry beams happily at her, holding his arms towards his daughter. He lifts her up and embraces her tightly. He sighs contently against his daughter and he swears that he’ll never get tired of this, of just being able to hold her. He can’t ever forget how he almost lost her, it’s always in the back of his mind, which makes it impossible for Harry to ever take a single moment for granted. But he knows that one day she’s going to grow out this, one day he’s going to wake up and she’s going to be a teenager and she’s going to get so embarrassed by him and all his affection. But she’ll still always be his little girl and he wants to savor every last second of it.

“You’re getting so big, Avie.” Harry adjusts his hold on her. There was a point earlier this year when holding her would break his heart because she was so frail and fragile. But holding her now and feeling how healthy and solid she feels in his arms almost makes Harry want to cry. “Soon you’ll be carrying me.”

Avery has her small arms draped around his neck and she giggles. “That’s impossible, I’ll never be as big as you.”

“Never say never.” Harry kisses her cute nose.

Harry starts walking down the hall with Avery in his arms to the kitchen to hopefully find Louis. He finds him arms deep in suds, cleaning dishes at the sink with his phone lodged against his ear by his shoulder. He doesn’t notice Harry and Avery in the kitchen at first, far too focused on giving detailed overnight orders for his patients to one of his residents.

Louis ends the call and smiles wide when his eyes connect with Harry’s and it sends little jolts of electricity to Harry’s heart. He hasn’t shaved in awhile, and he looks so scruffy and endearing and soft all at once, Harry just wants to cuddle him.

Harry sets Avery back down to the floor so that he can greet his boyfriend properly. He crosses the kitchen and meets Louis at the sink. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Louis shakes his dripping hands out over the sink. “Sorry, I’m covered in soapy water, I don’t want to get your suit wet.”

Harry pulls Louis close anyway, leaning right in to kiss him. “I don’t even care.”

Louis grins against his lips, holding sudsy palms to his cheeks. “Missed you, love.”

“Missed you, too.” Harry smiles, loving the feeling of having Louis’ lips back on his again. It’s just so good to be home. Except it does smell kind of odd in this kitchen, not at all like it usually does. “What is that smell? It’s…”

“Oh.” Avery grimaces. “I was trying to teach Louis how I make chocolate chip cookies…but it’s not going so good.”

Louis laughs at that. “It’s going perfectly Avery, what on earth do you mean? We’ve only burnt three batches so far. And the last one was only slightly burnt, practically edible.”

“You’re hopeless and I love you.” Harry tells him.

“It’s not entirely his fault, Daddy.” Avery explains. “I forgot your recipe so nothing we do turns out right. No matter what we do, they burn! I was going to ask you for help, but we wanted to surprise you.”

“Surprise.” Louis announces, smiling wide. “Welcome home to burnt cookies baked with love.”

“Did you maybe miss a step or something?”

“No?” Avery frowns to herself as she seems to think it over. “I did everything like you showed me and I set the oven at 450.”

“450?” Harry grins amusedly. “You’ve been baking cookies at four hundred and fifty degrees this whole time and wondering why they keep burning?”

“You know, it sounded way too high to me too, but Avery _insisted_.” Louis claims, shaking his head. “And honestly H, I was just along for the ride. Who am I to tell a young baker the error of her ways?”

“Louis I told you, I never set the oven when we bake! Daddy always does it!” Avery defends herself. “I just remember that it ended in fifty and so I made a guess.”  

“Oh, you made a guess, huh?” Louis grins, bending down to tickle her sides. “What happened to all the times you told me that you were ‘absolutely sure’. Look how the story changes now that your dad is home.”

Avery squeaks and giggles under Louis’ tickle attack and he picks her all the way up and rains down an onslaught of light kisses to her flushed cheeks. And Harry’s heart swells just watching them interact with each other, he’s missed this so much. Louis smiles so brightly when he looks at her, a genuine, full smile, enchanted by every last thing she does. And Avery completely adores him, she’s so comfortable and happy in his arms, it’s so beautifully clear how much they really love each other.  

The three of them spend the rest of the evening baking, _properly_ baking. Harry reminds Avery of the appropriate temperature for the oven and Louis continues to tease Avery the entire night, somehow managing to repeatedly insert the number four hundred and fifty into conversation, which only makes Avery smile or make a face at him. And Harry definitely constitutes it as their 31stdate.

Later that night, Harry curls himself up against Louis in bed, beyond ready to just fall asleep surrounded by him, especially after the long week he’s had. But Louis can’t seem to settle himself down, tossing and twisting and adjusting restlessly in Harry’s arms every few seconds.

“Harry?” Louis twists around one more time in the bed so that they are face to face. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Mhmm, of course, Lou.” Harry hums, eyes still closed and on the verge of falling asleep, drained from traveling. He knew something was coming, Louis can never sleep if something is on his mind.

Louis cups one side of his cheek, thumbing along the bone. “You have to open your eyes first, love.”

Harry blearily blinks his eyes, lips slightly quirked towards the makings of a smile. “This is a serious talk then.”

Louis nods slowly, sitting up in the bed to face Harry better. “But if you’re too tired, H, I understand…it can wait…”

“And listen to you toss and turn and kick me all night?” Harry sits up against the headboard. “If there’s something on your mind Louis, I want to hear it. I’m never too tired to talk to you.”

“You’re so sweet.” Louis’ face softens impossibly. “I really missed you this week.”

“I missed you too, babe. You have no idea how much.” Harry gently pulls Louis’ face to his own for a short kiss. “But you can’t just want to talk about how much we missed each other.”

“No um…not exactly…” He worries his bottom lip through his teeth, chewing over his words as he breaks his gaze with Harry. “Well it’s just that…I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately…especially while you were away and um…I just…”

Harry watches him closely, running his hand along Louis’ shoulders towards his back.  “Yeah?”

“I want to help.” Louis starts, lifting his eyes back up again.

“Help with what, Lou?” Harry tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“With you and with Avery. Financially.”

Harry blinks in surprise, caught off guard. “Louis please, you don’t have to—”

“No wait, Harry please let me say this.” Louis insists gently, putting both of his hands on Harry’s chest. “Look, I’m a neurosurgeon and I’ve reached a point in my career where I make a lot of money and it’s just me. Or it has been just me for so long…” He explains, pausing as he gathers his thoughts. “I don’t have any major expenses; my student loans are all paid off—I don’t even have a mortgage because this house was my grandmother’s.” He holds Harry’s gaze earnestly. “I just want to take care of the people I love…”

Harry is still just staring at Louis without words, not sure how he should react.

Louis shifts from Harry’s side to straddle his lap, hands coming up to cradle each side of his face. “Harry, you’re such a good father, a devoted father….and I watch you continue to sacrifice yourself for Avery because of how much you love her and want to provide a good life for her. And I know you can provide for yourself and your daughter, but you shouldn’t have to kill yourself doing it. You shouldn’t have to work so hard and miss out on parts of her life just to provide for her…not when I’m right here…”

Harry nuzzles his face towards Louis’ palm, lifting a hand to rest over his. “Oh, Lou…”

“I just… I feel…responsible for her…” Louis admits honestly. “I really care about her and I love her so much—she’s a part of me…and more than anything I want what’s best for her. And she needs more time with you, Harry. Avery needs more time with her dad. And…I’m not telling you to completely quit your job and let me be your sugar daddy or anything… because how fucking gross does that sound?” Louis laughs a bit to himself. “I…I just really want to help. I want everything that’s mine to be yours. There’s no point to any of it without you…without Avery. You’re my family.”

Since getting together, he’s never heard Louis actually call him his family aloud, he’s eluded to it, sure, but there’s something about hearing him say it that does things to Harry’s heart. Harry inhales audibly, feeling himself start to get emotional.

“I’m in this…like, really in this with you, Harry. The long haul, the end of the line—whatever, I’m in. I love you.” Louis promises, still cupping Harry’s cheeks, tracing over his cheekbones. “Let me help…please, baby.”

Harry is just so utterly taken aback, truly floored. No one has ever offered so much to him, so simply, so selflessly. Not expecting a single thing in return, only operating out of the sheer kindness of his heart. Not even Jesse, who he dated for four years, offered anything even close to what Louis is offering. He never offered to support Avery financially no matter how much Harry was struggling, he hardly supported Harry let alone their relationship. Jesse would buy little things for Harry sometimes, splurge on insignificant gifts from time to time every blue moon, but never something like _this_.

Louis genuinely wants to help and support him. Not with strings or conditions or ultimatums. He only wants Harry to be able to spend more time with his daughter, uninhibited by the constraints of always needing to leave her just to provide for her. Louis is truly the kindest, most thoughtful man Harry will ever know.

And what’s sweeter is that Louis is so worried about overstepping or intruding in some way, scared of crossing a line he’s not sure might exist. But just like Louis said, he’s family. Louis is and will always be his family and there are no lines or barriers when it comes to family.

“I’m not poor anymore.” Louis adds with a knowing look, a small smirk on his lips.

Harry can’t help but let out a surprised watery laugh, still finding the concept hilarious for some reason even though it’s been so many years. It really must be the accent.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asobS45OFJY&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR7yXYtGmwZ9-1Ev-Jk3Xs&index=5)

Harry closes the slight space between them, sealing their lips together as his tears begin to trickle. “God, I love you.” Harry murmurs against Louis’ mouth, the only thing he can think to say in response. He can’t describe how touched he is by the kindheartedness of his sweet boyfriend.  “I don't know what I ever did to deserve you, but I love you so much.”

And as much as he didn’t want to think about it, this just reminds Harry about how goddamn hard he made everything for himself by leaving. Louis tells him all the time to stop drudging up the past and Harry tries not to, honestly, he does—but sometimes, _god_ sometimes it feels like he’ll never be able to fully forgive himself for it. There’s always going to be something to remind him of how much he cost their family, how much he threatened their life together.

“I will never again deny you the chance to support Avery. I’m…I… I already r-robbed her of so much time with you…a-and I…” His voice lodges itself dryly in his throat as the weight of that time seems to fall heavily on Harry’s shoulders like an anvil.

Louis shakes his head, wiping Harry’s tears away. “Babe, shh…it’s ok, H.”

Harry doesn’t even think Louis understands what he means, not completely. He hasn’t talked about this properly with Louis, hasn’t admitted it all aloud, too afraid of how Louis would react. Despite how much they’ve discussed at length, there is an aspect of Harry’s guilt that he doesn’t delve into. It’s the only thing he hasn’t completely opened up about to Louis. Not because he didn’t want to, but because the past is hard enough to talk about in itself, but talking about how it directly affected Avery, how it specifically derailed parts of her life too—fuck it’s so hard for Harry to even think about, let alone speak of.

“No, it’s n-not ok, Louis…i-it’s not—she cried for you. Every day, she c-cried for you.” Harry sobs, breathing heavily, remembering it all like it was yesterday. The first year away from Louis was the hardest of them all. “I would sit and h-hold her for hours and I’d try to t-talk to her in that gentle voice like y-you would…b-but she only cried. And then I w-would just cry too and…and it went on like t-that for months and it was m-miserable. I was miserable w-without you—she doesn’t r-remember, but I do...she n-needed you. Avery needed you from the beginning…she… s-she was just a b-baby and she bonded with you before me and s-she  _missed_ you so much and…I kept you a-away...” He breaks down completely, shoulders shaking and caving in on himself. “God—there were so many v-voicemails that you left on my p-phone…and I’d play them all for her and also for me a-and it was the only way to get her to stop crying. Just hearing your v-voice…even just for a little w-while…it gave her peace…and…and I d-don’t know if I’ll ever f-forgive myself for a-all the time you lost with e-each other…I’m so s-sorry, Lou…I’m s-sorry…”

“You know I don’t hold that against you, you know that, right love?” Louis speaks in emotionally hushed tones, teary eyes red rimmed. “I don’t. I promise I don’t. I won’t ever. There’s nothing you can tell me that would make me want to hold it against you.”

Harry is still crying heavily, trembling more and more with the passing seconds. So Louis pulls him to his chest, cradling Harry’s head, rocking him slowly to try and console him. Harry knows how genuine Louis is, how much he cares, how much he believes that everything that happened, happened for a reason…but sometimes when Harry allows himself to remember his side of what happened, what he caused, Harry doesn’t feel worthy of all the forgiveness Louis has in his heart for him. And maybe it’s an irrational reaction because Louis has never given him a single reason to doubt him but yet, the complete absolution of his wrongs of the past doesn’t always feel warranted.

“Harry, my love, let it go. Please let it go. Please…” Louis begs of him in a soft voice, tearstained cheek rested atop Harry’s head as he holds him tightly. “I forgave you for the past, you know that. And Avery has too. But you have to forgive yourself.”

“B-But there’s so much t-that you missed, Lou…” Harry continues to cry, face buried to Louis’ chest. And he can hear all the layers of guilt ringing out in his own voice, only making him feel worse.

“Tell me about it then.”

“What?” Harry slowly lifts his head, meeting Louis’ gaze in confusion.

Louis runs his fingers through Harry’s hair, tucking the stray strands away from his teary eyes. “Tell me about all the good things and good memories you have with Avery when she was little.”

“W-Why would you want to h-hear that, Louis?” Harry sniffles.

“Because I don’t want you to focus on the bad parts anymore. I might not have been there, and I know that’s hard for you to let go of, but I know there was good in it Harry, there was so much good in it. You blame yourself for a lot of things but…” Louis offers him a gentle comforting smile so genuine it brings fresh tears to the corners of Harry’s eyes. “There was always good there too, I’m sure of that, love.”

Harry just looks at him, searching his shining blue eyes, taken completely aback once again by everything Louis is.

“Tell me, H.” Louis encourages gently and there’s not a single trace of spite or anger in his eyes. He only wants to soothe Harry in any way he possibly can, loving him so unconditionally.

“I u-um…” Harry exhales shakily, allowing himself to think back on his fondest memories during that time, challenging himself to tell Louis one from every year. The first one he thinks of happened not too long after he left. He takes a deep breath to calm his tearful voice. “Well uh…you already know that Avery loves that walrus you gave her as a baby…and she would have a fit if we went anywhere without it. So of course, her first word ended up being walrus, but she couldn’t pronounce the sounds in the middle properly for the longest time, so it sounded more like ‘wah-us’ and I always thought it was the cutest thing when she’d say it.”

Louis face breaks into a smile, so soft and gentle, completely endeared as though he can picture it perfectly. “Keep going.”

“Ok.” Harry nods gradually, wiping under his wet eyes. “When she was about two and half, she got really excited about being ‘a big girl’ and she would do the cutest little celebration dance every time she went to the bathroom all by herself and she would insist that I do the dance with her no matter where we were or what time it was. It could be two in the morning and she’d come wake me up just to do that dance.” He describes, a small grin pulling at his lips. “And when she was four, whenever she thought I was sad she would pour orange juice in a bowl and give it to me calling it ‘feel better soup’. She somehow believed it would fix everything…and sometimes it felt like it did…” Harry feels several quiet tears roll down his cheeks.

Louis continues to listen, holding both of Harry’s hands reassuringly, leaning in to kiss his tears away.

“She wore a polka dot leotard with a pink tutu and yellow rainboots on her first day of kindergarten because I let her dress herself and that’s what she wanted to wear.” Harry’s expression uncontrollably curves into a wet smile as his voice continues to waver. “It wasn’t even raining, but she insisted on it.”

“Oh, of course she did.” Louis offers his own warm smile.

“On my birthday she would always try to make me something and when she was six, she wanted to make me a cake, but she didn’t know how, so she covered a stack of bread with icing and sprinkles and put a candle on it. But it was the best thing ever.” Harry bites on his lip as his breath stutters and more tears flow. “And she got really into writing little notes for people when she was seven. She called them her ‘secret sweeties’ and she would write little notes to me like ‘you make the best waffles’ or ‘you give my favorite hugs’ and she would leave them all over the house for me to find. And I swear they always made my d-day...”

“God, she’s s-so…”. Harry starts full on crying again, shaking his head as his voice falls horribly weak again. “I wouldn’t have m-made it without her, you k-know? With everything that h-happened with…w-with Gemma—I…I don’t know…I feel like I don’t deserve her sometimes…like she d-deserves so much more than w-what I could ever give h-her and I should be a-able to give her more—I want to give her so much _more_. She’s e-everything and I want to give her everything because I know it’s my fault that she doesn’t have it so I just try to do more for her and work even h-harder…” His head is still shaking as he looks back at Louis, sobbing. “But it’s too m-much, Louis…it’s t-too hard—I can’t do it a-alone, I c-can’t…”

“I know, love…I know.” Louis nods gently, holding Harry’s face as he thumbs away his heavily streaming tears. “You’re a wonderful father, you hear me. You’re a good fucking dad.” He tells him in certainty, forcing Harry to listen to him. “But you don’t have to do it by yourself anymore. I’m here, ok? We have each other, you don’t have to worry anymore. Together we can give her everything and more.”

Harry clings his entire body to Louis, curled up against him in his lap. He’s never properly voiced his doubts and fears about being a parent, vocalizing how hard it really is for him. And maybe he hadn’t yet realized how much of a toll it was taking on him, how much he’s utterly exhausted himself trying to overcompensate for every last thing, so caught up in trying his best to take care of her that he hardly has time to really _take care_ of her. Being a single parent is hard, it’s so fucking hard and what never fails to make it even harder is isolating himself with his own demons, his own baggage. But finally opening up to Louis with complete transparency about his darkest, guilt-ridden thoughts, he can see how not alone he is in all this.

“I  _love_ you, H.” Louis murmurs to Harry’s hair, arms unwavering in how steadfastly they hold Harry’s frame. And Harry feels so overwhelmed with honest love and support, it overfills every last corner of his heart.

“Move in with me.” Harry rushes out in one, vulnerable breath, gazing openly at Louis. For months, they’ve been living between both of their houses, although hardly ever spending a night apart since they got together. “Officially, I mean.”

“Here?” Louis questions.

Harry shrugs, shaking his head without a real answer as he sniffles. “Here. There—wherever.  We spend every night together anyway, I just want to be with you.”

Louis stays quiet for a few beats, searching Harry’s eyes. And Harry can’t tell if it’s doubt or hesitation or what, but the silence is killing him.

“Do you not want to live together?” Harry internally panics even more, wondering if he read this situation totally wrong and now he’s jumping the gun. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm Louis in any way or force him into something he’s not ready to do. “It’s…it’s ok if you don’t—I just thought that…um…”

“Harry, love, don’t be ridiculous. Of course I want to live together.” Louis reassures him, brushing away the last few drops of saltwater on Harry’s cheeks. “I mean, I did just promise everything to you.”

“Oh…” Harry breaths out in relief, sniffling again. “Then why did you hesitate?”

“Because I think we should start over.” Louis answers. “Leave our pasts behind and buy a new house together. Remember how you told me that whenever you go to your house, you still think about the night you found out Jesse cheated on you? It’s holding you back and keeping you chained to the past. And this house, as much as I’ve loved it, still reminds me of all the years I spent here without you…and it’s filled with the old us and I don’t know… I think we need a new place that’s for us right now, you know? A clean start.”

He’s right of course, Harry knows he is. They’ve each got so much baggage and they’ve spent countless hours unpacking all of it together, leaving no secrets between them. And after everything that’s happened in their lives, they deserve a new beginning.  

“I don’t want to go backwards, I don’t want to think of the past or who we were when we first met or who we were while we were apart.” Louis explains, earnest gaze still locked with Harry’s. “We’re so much better now, love…and we’re growing together, and I think we need a new space for us to continue to grow and move on, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods with a watery smile. Louis kisses him then, expressing more than words can say. And Harry pours every part of himself right back. That’s all he could ever want honestly. The chance to start fresh and wipe the slate clean. The chance to leave behind everything that could possibly hold them back. The chance to finally move forward with the love of his life.

 

||✚||

 

Their 36th Date is far less exciting than most, consisting of warm chicken noodle soup and cold compresses and Nyquil Severe Cold and Flu liquid-gels all because Louis’ immune system can’t keep up with the changing of seasons this year.

Harry canceled their original plans to go downtown, instead coming home early from work to take care of Louis. After hearing Louis’ cracked voice on the phone, Harry knew he needed to go home and make sure he’s alright.

Harry follows the sound of recurrent sneezing and pitiful sniffling throughout the house until coming across his immunocompromised boyfriend.

“Harry, I’m dyyying…” Louis groans with a stuffy nose, limbs fully spread out across the bed, a bed that seems to be composed more of tissues than of actual linens. He’s bundled up in one of Harry’s sweatshirts with the hood thrown over his head, covering half of his face, all that can really be seen is the tip of his nose and his lips. “Tell Avery I love her and make sure to take Benny on a run every morning if I don’t make it.”

“Hmm, so doctors _can_ get sick.” Harry walks into the room and straight to Louis’ side. “You know, I always wondered that as a child.” 

“Of course we can. Doctors make the worst patients. Or so I’m told?” Louis slightly lifts his head in consideration before losing the will to sit up completely and flopping back down. “I don’t know…but I’m dying.”

Harry climbs into bed next to Louis, propping his head up with his arm. “You’re incredibly dramatic.”

“I’m _dramatic_?! How dare you, Harry! I’m on my death bed and you don’t even care—” Louis’ hoarse voice cuts off as he uncontrollably goes into a bout of sneezes, very cute, endearing sneezes Harry might add.

“Of course, I care. I came home early just to care for you.” Harry pushes back Louis’ hood from his head and uses the back of his hand to feel his forehead. “Aww Lou, you’re really burning up, baby. What can I do for you? What do you need?”

“Kiss it better.” Louis pouts, sniffling miserably. “And hold me while I die.”

“And risk getting sick myself?” Harry hovers over him.

Louis nods slowly, still sniffing through his reddened stuffy nose, looking far too adorable and cuddly to deny. Even while sick and congested, he’s still so lovely and Harry couldn’t be more in love. “But it’ll make me feel better and remind me just how much you love me in my hour of need.”

“Aww, you’re so needy when you’re sick.” Harry grins amusedly before obliging Louis’ requests, leaning in to kiss down the length of his neck. “I love you.”

Louis curls up against him, tangling his socked feet in between Harry’s legs as he closes his eyes. Harry rubs his back softly, feeling Louis’ breathing begin to even out.

“Lou?” Harry whispers after a few quiet minutes. “Louis?”

Louis offers no answer, unmoving as his eyes remaining closed. His lips are parted slightly as he breathes and he’s making a tiny snoring sound, probably due to the congestion in his chest.

“You fell asleep on me, huh?” Harry fonds, lips pressed to Louis’ hooded head. Harry could hold Louis for hours and never grow tired of watching him sleep. But he does find it a little funny that Louis fell asleep on him so quickly.

“Wooow.” Harry drags out, smiling down at Louis’ peaceful face. “I risk my life and health for you and you fall asleep. Typical.”

Harry adjusts himself around on the bed until in a more comfortable position with a snoring and sleeping Louis lying on top of him. Harry lifts the book he was reading from the nightstand and right when he finds the page he left off on, Louis’ pager and phone start going off at the same time.

“I’m up! I’m up!” Louis sits up against Harry suddenly in alarm, hurling an unsuspecting Harry flailing off the side of the bed. “Oh my god, H! I’m so sorry, love. Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fantastic, thanks.” Harry answers from the floor, lying amongst the pillows that also fell in Louis’ surprise reflex attack. It all happened so fast, he wasn’t even prepared.

“I have to go to work.” Louis rasps, starting to edge himself off of the bed.

“Louis, you have a fever.” Harry pushes him back down. He’s always looking out for others more than himself, but right now he can’t be of any use to anyone.

“But it’s an emergent page!” Louis protests, weakly attempting to force himself out of bed with half open eyes. He has his pager in one hand and his phone in the other, fiddling with the buttons of the pager.

“What are you doing? Give me that.” Harry confiscates the pager from Louis’ feeble hold, pushing Louis back down onto the bed. “You can’t go to work like this.”

“I just—I have to Harry, I _have_ to…I—”

“You just claimed to be dying ten minutes ago.”

“I _am_ dying, but I have a job. A re—resp—r—” Louis hurls into a horrible coughing fit.

“Lay down, Lou.”

“Just really qu—qui—q-quick.” Louis wheezes and he sounds worse than death. “My department is so understaffed right now, so many people are on leave or sick and—they _need_ me.”

“They’ll survive I’m sure.”

“But…but…but—”

“No.” Harry presses Louis all the way down, shifting his leg over to straddle his hips. “You’re a work addict.”

“I don’t think the same rules apply, babe. I save lives for a living.”

“And I think that’s so sexy. You’re brilliant and kind and sweet…” Harry murmurs, leaving light kisses across Louis’ face. “But you’re also very sick and you’re not going anywhere. I’m putting you on bedrest.”

Louis, as defiant and determined as he is, still tries to roll over with his phone. But he wouldn’t be the man Harry fell in love with if he didn’t put up a fight. “Let me at least call—”

“I’ll call for you.” Harry snatches the phone right from Louis’ weakened grasp, which immediately draws a disgruntled frown from his boyfriend.

“But _Harry_ …” Louis sulks pitifully, sitting up a bit on weakened arms.

“Bedrest, darling. Bedrest.”

“Ugh…” Louis groans, throwing his head back against the pillows and closing his eyes in defeat. But then he peeks them open again, turning his body back towards Harry. “Will you kiss me and hold me again? It feels better…”

“Will you fall asleep again?” Harry wonders as he pulls Louis back into his arms. But truthfully all he wants is for Louis to fall asleep again and let his body rest and begin to heal itself.

And Harry’s wish is apparently Louis’ command because in no time at all, Louis’ body starts to feel like dead weight again, lying motionless on top of Harry’s chest.

“Louis?”

He’s already fast asleep, confirmed by the return of his soft, little snores escaping his airway.

“Louuuis?” Harry sings his name softly, kissing his nose. “I think I can officially confirm that doctors really are the worst patients.”

 

||☤||

 

Consequently, the following evening on Date 37, they are both rendered utterly useless, cuddled in bed together coughing and sniffling, surrounded by a swarm of scrunched up tissues, empty tea cups and cough drop wrappers.

“I blame _you_.” Harry wheezes, head resting in Louis’ lap as his weak voice drones on. He’s been rambling on about how Louis got him sick, since the moment he woke up burning from a fever. “I never should have kissed your toxic lips.”

“It’s not my fault that you’re weak and can’t say no to me.” Louis half grins, petting Harry’s hair feebly with his own head lulled against the fabric headboard of the bed.

Harry tries to swat at Louis’ thigh for that, but in actuality it only feels like a light tap. “I hate you. You’re a menace.”

With much difficulty and physical strain, Louis twists his tired body down to press an excessively wet kiss to Harry’s unsuspecting lips. “I love you too, babe.”

“Eww! Don’t kiss me!” Harry protest in vain, eyes closed as he whips his head back and forth. “No,  _nooo!_ That’s so gross, Louis! Keep your sick, diseased germs away from me!”

“You’re already sick with me, love. It’s far too late now.” Louis blatantly licks a thick strip along Harry’s cheek, spreading as many germs as possible.

“God, you’re so fucking nasty.” Harry groans, hardly flinching with Louis’ tongue pressed obnoxiously to his cheek.

Louis laughs, but it sounds more like a wheezing croak that sputters into an ugly cough. “You’re so bitter when you’re sick.”

“Ughhh, my whole body aches.” Harry groans again, throat sounding unbelievably congested. “This is _horrible.”_

“You’re telling me.” Louis scoffs a bit. “And you had the audacity to say that I was being dramatic yesterday. You fool.”

There is a little knock at the bedroom door, before it starts to creak open and Avery pokes her head into their room.

“No, Avie! My innocent child, save yourself.”

“You’ll get sick, honey.” Louis worries seriously. Her immune system may not be the strongest after all the chemotherapy she’s had over the past year. If she were to get sick, it’d be much harder for her body to fight off the effects of a common cold than it otherwise would be.

“It’s ok, I came prepared.” Avery assures, and maybe she’s right because she’s nearly covered head to toe. An adult sized surgical mask covers her entire face and she’s got on gloves for her hands and a little blue disposable hair net too.

“Aww…look at you, my little doctor. I love it.” Louis’ face softens. “But still you shouldn’t be in here, little love.”

“Yeah, that is very sweet, Munchie. But you really don’t have to take care of us. We’re fine—” Harry can’t even finish his sentence before spiraling into his next coughing fit, sounding like he’s only seconds from hurling up a whole lobe of his lungs. “Still...f-fine…”

“Yeah…totally fine...” Louis rasps, hardly any sound coming from his impossibly sore throat. “Your dad is just a drama queen...”

“Heyyy.” Harry whines as he sniffles through his stuffy nose.

“You both are drama queens to me.” Avery sighs to herself.

Harry and Louis both attempt to sit up and protest, but only end up coughing and wheezing even more.

Avery shakes her head at both of them, sighing exasperatedly once again as she sets down her tray on the far dresser. “Daddy, take this.” She holds out a little perfectly measured cup of medication, before turning to Louis. “Louis, sit up and take this.”

They both just stare at her incredulously, tiny cups held with weak grasps.

Avery widens her eyes to urge them on. “ _Please.”_

“Cheers, baby.” Harry knocks measuring cups with Louis as if it’s a shot glass. “Date 37 and still going strong.”

“Ughhh…cheers.” Louis croaks weakly, closing his eyes as he throws the bitter cough syrup back along with Harry, both of them wincing as it coaxes down their throats.

“Very good boys. Now both of you drink these. All of it.” Avery hands them each a fresh bottle of water. “Fluids are very important.”

Louis can’t help but grin. “You really are quite the little doctor, Aves.”

“Well I learned from the best.” Avery winks. “Now get some rest and I’ll be back to check on you in an hour.”

“Oh no you won’t.” Louis denies instantly, reaching for his phone. “I’m calling your Aunt Frankie right now to come get you. I don’t want to risk you getting sick.”

Frankie moved to Seattle a few months back, repeatedly claiming that it has absolutely nothing to do with Louis, but solely because she got a really nice job offer in the city as the Head Chef of a new French restaurant. He’s abundantly proud of her of course, but regardless of what she says, Louis still tells her that he knows that deep down she really moved here to be closer to him. But it’s good, really good because even though their friendship is relatively new, Louis cares so deeply for her and he’s happy to have her in his life. Plus, she and Harry have grown to be practically inseparable; the best friends that Frankie hoped for. They really are evil twins and when they get together, there is literally no stopping them.

“But I feel fine and I want to take care of you.” Avery protests, and Louis can see the makings of a frown behind all of her protective medical gear.

“Aww, and you have, Munchie.” Harry tells her appreciatively. “But we want to make sure that you stay safe and healthy.”

“Fineee.” Avery sighs dramatically, shuffling towards the door. “I’ll go pack a bag I guess.”

“Thank you, my love.” Louis coughs into his arm. “It’ll only be for a few days, I promise.”

“Can Benny come with me?”

“I’m sure he’d love to.”  Harry nods. “But make sure you pack enough food for him, Avie.”

“Ok, I will.”

“And make sure to wash your hands.” Louis adds next. “Fun fact, the number one way to stop the flow bacteria is through proper hand hygiene.”

“That’s what the nurses always say at the hospital.” Avery replies.

“Because it’s true! Wash your hands right when you leave this room and take your gloves off.” Louis repeats again seriously. “I really don’t want you to catch what we have, sweetheart.”

“Oh! And make sure you bring a sweater and a jacket and warm socks.” Harry reminds. “It’s getting cold out.”

“Ok, ok, I will.” Avery answers, probably getting annoyed by all their overprotective, worried reminders. “Anything else?”

“We looovvee youuu!” Harry and Louis sing– _wheeze_ in harmony.

 

||✚||

 

“You live.” Frankie smiles as she opens the front door of her house. “From how you both sounded on the phone the other day, I just wasn’t sure.”

“Oh shut up, Frankie.” Louis laughs, leaning in to give her a hug.

“Wait, is it safe for you to hug me?” Frankie stops him, with a hand to his chest. “What you had sounded godawful and I don’t want that.”

“Yes, I’m fine now. We both are.”

Frankie eyes both Harry and Louis suspiciously, looking unconvinced.

“Oh my god, Frankie.” Harry sighs, rolling his eyes and just hugging her anyway. “Nice to see you too.”

“Might as well hug you too, I suppose. If I perish, I perish.” Frankie embraces Louis next and Louis can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous she always is.

“Thanks so much for watching Avery for us.”

“Yeah anytime, Harry. It’s not a problem.”  Frankie waves off easily “Besides I couldn’t let my girl die of toxins. She had to be rescued from you and your diseased boyfriend.”  

“It was a _cold_!” Louis stresses. “It was by no means deadly.”

“That’s what you say now. But you sure sounded dead as fuck.” Frankie reminds pointedly.

Harry laughs. “She’s not wrong, Lou. It was pretty bad.”

“Whatever.” Louis sighs. “Anyway, how was Avery?”

“Wonderful. I love that girl so much.” Frankie admits wholeheartedly. “We had so much fun together. It was the best.”

“Where is she now?”

“Oh, she’s in the nursery. She loves holding my son, she adores him, it’s seriously the cutest thing ever. She whispers to him and calls him her baby and rocks him. Oh my god—you  _have_ to see it. I took a ton of pictures of them, I’m like that embarrassing mom that won’t shut up about her kids. I’ll send you the pictures.”

Frankie leads them through her house, the three of them tiptoeing to the nursery quietly to peek their heads in the doorway. Avery is sitting in a rocking chair, her feet not yet long enough to touch the floor, cradling a swaddled baby Louis in her arms. She’s whispering what sounds like a story to him and she drops several kisses to his forehead.

Harry gasps loudly, unable to contain himself from reacting. “Oh my _god_!”

“I know, right?” Frankie agrees, glancing at him. “Cuteness overload.”

“Shh!” Avery admonishes them, holding the small swaddled infant closer to her chest. “My Baby LouLou is sleeping.”

“My Baby LouLou—oh, they’re so _adorable_!” Louis gushes expressively, hand over his heart. “I can’t deal with this.”

“Louis, are you crying?”

“…No?” Louis barely denies though soft sniffles. “ _Yes_. I’m sorry, ok—I just cry a lot now and I get emotional easily and I just got over being sick and…I don’t know? It’s really fucking cute, ok? Leave me alone.”

“Aww babe, you’re sooo soft.” Harry wraps his arms around him, completely endeared. “I love how emotional you are.”

“Shut up.” Louis pouts, still sniffling as he leans back against Harry. “You’re super soft too.”

Frankie smiles at them. “Imagine when you guys have a new baby, you’ll never stop crying.”

“You’re getting a new _baby?!”_ Avery gasps outright, suddenly overly excited. “I want to be a big sister!”

Harry and Louis both pale at the same time, eyes wide and caught extremely off guard. He and Louis are nowhere near the point in their relationship where they would start expanding their new family. They’re still just trying to adjust to being a couple in itself, they couldn’t possibly even _think_ about a baby.

Louis clears his throat first. “Hey…um…Frankie…weren’t you going to show us something in the kitchen…yeah?”

“Yes—right, yes.” Frankie nods repeatedly.

The three of them make a hurried, uncoordinated escape from the room, purposefully dodging Avery’s question. A question that they are in no place to answer today.

“What…have…you… _done_?” Harry utters, spinning around in accusation toward Frankie the second they’re safely down the hall.

“How did she even hear that from all the way over there?” Frankie wonders, sounding genuinely confused.

“She’s nine, she hears _everything_.” Harry whispers to Frankie, in what sounds more like hiss. “Everything!”

“We will never hear the end of it now.” Louis sighs, shaking his head regretfully.  “You’ve sunk us.”

“Sorry?” Frankie pulls a face that perfectly embodies the word, ‘ _yikes’_. She shrugs apologetically. “I’m a new parent I didn’t know! I just earned my mommy wings, ok.”

“You will pay for this.” Louis threatens.

“Ok but, serious question, boys.” Frankie leans in closer to them. “How do you even fuck each other without her knowing or hearing you?”

“Carefully. Very, very…carefully.” Harry describes slowly.

“It’s practically a skill.” Louis answers in consideration. “A hidden talent, so to speak.”

“Timing is key, like midday when she’s at school is primetime. Showers are great, cars are also great.” Harry lists. “It’s all about creativity, really.”

“God, that’s awful.” Frankie grimaces. “How about to make it up to you, I’ll babysit again tonight so you can go home and have the loudest most reckless sex of your life in your own bed or anywhere else you want in your house. Maybe the kitchen floor? The stairs? That sounds pretty fun, right?”

Harry and Louis look over at each other, deliberating without the need for words

“Oh no, we’re not that easy.” Harry decides after a beat. “You can babysit for us once a week until Avery forgets about this.”

“Which will be never.” Louis adds knowingly. “So just plan on making it a part of your weekly routine until you die or she turns eighteen, whichever comes first.”

“You’re in for the long haul with us now.” Harry smirks, slinging his arm over Frankie’s shoulder as he pecks her cheek.

“Aren’t I just so lucky?”

 

||☤||

 

“And there they are. America’s most obvious couple.” Louis announces, starting up an obnoxious round of applause as Niall and Charlie walk down the hall with their fingers linked together. “You just had sex, huh?”

 _“Louis!”_ Niall flushes beet red with embarrassment while Charlie’s jaw drops in surprise. He looks around to see if anyone else overheard that, but the hall is pretty much deserted apart from the three of them.

“Let me guess. In an on-call room?” Louis smiles knowingly.

“Please spare me.” Niall begs, pinching his brow.

“On the third floor, obviously, because the beds are slightly bigger. Perfect for a little afternoon delight, am I right?” Louis continues, relentless and loving it. “Not to mention that you both just got off of the elevator. Together. Looking like…that.”

“Oh my god.” Charlies pales, dropping her head to Niall’s shoulder.

“Naughty, naughty.” Louis shakes his head, tsking his tongue dramatically. “This is a hospital, you know? A professional place of medicine and healing. Do you guys even get work done here or you just come for a good fuck and go home?”

“How the hell do you always _know?”_ Niall groans.

“Nothing gets past me, Ni.” Louis grins slowly. “And to be honest there is always a 50% chance that when I see you both together, you just fucked. So, I usually just go for it. And so far, I’ve never been wrong.”

Niall sighs heavily, cheeks still colored.

“Prove me wrong sometime, maybe?” Louis suggests with a smirk.

Charlie groans a bit. “My boss knows way too much about my sex life and it’s mortifying.”

“Yeah about that…so on a serious note, Dr. Wesley.” Louis begins in a more professional nature. “Have you rounded on my patients in 5341, 5271 and 5121 yet?”

Charlie somehow manages to pale even more than before. “Oh…um well…uh no…not yet…”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Ms. Emmerson in 5341 really needs an enema and her PICC line should be flushed with heparin before I discharge her. Mr. Carson in 5271 is overdue for labwork and I’m changing his med regimen, so Pharmacy needs to be called right away. And poor Mr. Kim in 5121 has a ridiculous amount of puss coming out of his wound that definitely needs to be debrided.” Louis riddles off. “And it kinda sucks because I have a really cool spinal surgery today that I was gonna let you scrub in on because you’re my resident, but _now_ since you’ve prioritized other personal matters, you’ve fallen behind on tasks I gave you hours ago, and I have to pick someone else.”

Charlie looks so embarrassed and frankly, mortified. “Sorry Dr. Tomlinson. I um—I’ll get right on that—I’m really sorry.”

“Ok, but also…you’re on scut until I tell you otherwise.” Louis says next. He hates putting his residents on scut, but he can’t reward unprofessional behavior. “Great sex or not, I’m your attending and if I page you or give you an order, you need to answer and follow through right away.”

Charlie nods remorsefully, looking like she’s ready to start crying from being reprimanded. “Right, I understand. It won’t happen again. Um, I’m gonna go start on that right now. Again, I’m really sorry, Dr. Tomlinson.”

Niall shakes his head apologetically and mouths, “I’m so sorry” to her as she starts to walk down the hall in the opposite direction.

“Well, fuck.” Niall groans.

“Are you gonna try to make me lighten up on your girlfriend?”

“No...” Niall blows out a steady stream of stressed air, running a hand through his hair. “I mean it sucks, but we went though it too. She’s your resident, and if it was my resident, I’d do the same thing. Fair is fair. I’ve actually come to appreciate that you don’t give her special treatment because of me. Although I do feel really, _really_ bad because she only ignored your page because I begged her to and I convinced her that it wasn’t that important. I wasn’t even thinking—shit.”

“Wow, you’re a terrible boyfriend.” Louis disapproves. “I should put you on scut.”

“Well, I’m an attending so fuck you.” Niall snaps back. “You think she’ll be really mad at me?”

“Yes. Without a doubt.” Louis answers honestly. “It’ll be the last time she listens to you, that’s for sure. I’m certain she didn’t work her ass off to get here only to have her career derailed by you.”

“I would never derail her career. She _amazes_ me—I love her, and I’m always proud of her and I just want her to succeed in everything she does, you know? She’s brilliant and talented.”

“I mean, I know all that obviously. She’s my best resident and I’m kinda mad that I can’t use her this week. So, thanks.”

Niall lets out another deep sigh, looking apologetic and worried. “I’ll find a way to make it up to her.”

Louis looks to Niall curiously. “How? With more on-call room sex?”

“No. Again, fuck you.” Niall frowns, giving Louis his middle finger.  

Louis can’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “You two are such a mess, I don’t understand it. But I also support it, which is…baffling? She must really love you or something because I would have kicked your sorry ass to the curb by now.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m not your boyfriend then.”

“Oh god, me too. I quite like mine.”

“Hey, you want to grab a drink with me after your surgery?” Niall asks. “I feel like I suddenly have no plans now that you’ve banished my girlfriend to night of sad scut work.”

“Mmm sucks to be you I guess, but as it is _your_ fault, I don’t feel bad for you at all.” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe you could help her out. Teamwork makes a dream work and all that. Sounds like a fun couple activity, debriding oozing wounds and giving enemas. So romantic.”

“Uh…fuck you, fuck you, and well, fuck you.” Niall fights off his smile.

Louis laughs. “Fuck you too, mate.”

“Ok, but about that drink, you in or not?”

“Tempting, Niall really, but I can’t tonight.” Louis answers while typing out a reply to his boyfriend’s texts about their evening plans. “Harry and I are going house hunting.”

“Oh, really?”

Louis looks up from his phone, grinning. “Yep. It’s a date. Our 59th Date, specifically.”

Niall makes a confused, considering face. “Since when is house hunting a date?”

“Since Harry and I do it.” Louis beams happily, pocking his phone. “And we make it really fun because we try to picture our lives in each house and then we come up with little stories for each room. That’s how we can tell if the house is for us or not.”

Niall feigns disgust, but it’s hardly genuine. “That’s gross. You guys are fucking gross.”

“I know.” Louis smiles impossibly wide, sounding unabashedly proud.

“I take it the sex is good.”

“Oh, the sex is ridiculous level good—like, _frustratingly_ good.”

“Frustratingly?”

“Yeah, because I don’t want to do anything else. At. All.” Louis stresses, widening his eyes. “I could fuck Harry all day and then still want to fuck Harry all day. You know what I mean?”

Niall pulls another grossed out face. “No, because I obviously don’t want to fuck Harry.”

“Ok, so exchange my ‘Harry’ for your ‘Charlie’ and I think the sentiment is the same, if the last hour is anything to go by. Anyway, he’s just so…” Louis sighs wistfully as he often does when he really stops and thinks about Harry. He could easily get carried away if he allows himself, if he starts devoting every last cell in his brain towards fixating on all the wonderful things that make him love Harry so much. And Louis has hardly got himself going, but he can practically feel himself about to start rambling about their relationship. “God, I don’t even know…he’s everything. And there really is no wrong way for us to do it, which is fucking wild because there’s _always_ a better way, you know? But, like, I swear to god, there’s literally no wrong way to have sex for us, we’re _that_ good together. Not to brag but…we have law defying sex every single time, which is totally _unreal,_ right? Maybe it’s the physical chemistry between us or our emotional compatibility or—I don’t fucking know, but I can’t mentally get over it and I physically can’t get enough of it and—are you even listening to me, Niall?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Niall sighs, not anywhere near as wistfully as Louis, more so dead inside.

Louis doesn’t even feel slightly bad because he’s listened to Niall yap about Charlie for the better portion of a year. He will continue to gush and ramble nonsensically about Harry all he wants, and Niall will just have to suck it up and support him as any best friend would. “But he’s my _favorite._ My favorite person, my favorite smell, my favorite curls, my favorite sense of humor, my favorite lips, my favorite hands, my favorite voice, my favorite dimples…” He could go on and on with this until he’s identified every last part of Harry, but most of all, Louis is increasingly enjoying how annoyed Niall is getting the longer he drones on. “And of course, my favorite ass.”

“You need help.” Niall tells him.

A slow grin mischievously spreads across Louis’ face. “And the great thing is, I know exactly where to get it.”

“Please don’t say it—”

“Harry’s ass.”

“Ok, _enough_.” Niall groans, dragging both his hands over his face. “Really, that’s more than enough for me today.”

“You asked.” Louis shrugs, smirking.

“But I _reaallly_ didn’t though.”

“Um bullshit. You just asked me if the sex is good. So yeah, you did.” Louis recalls. “And you don’t have a leg to stand on, mate. I literally just caught you and Charlie and not for the first time, I might add.”

“God, all I want to say to you is fuck you.” Niall laughs, glancing down at his ringing pager. “It just fully encompasses my feelings right now.”

“Yeah? It’s such a great phrase. So emotive, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, _exactly_.” Niall nods with a grin as he starts down the hallway. “So, um great chatting with you, have a good day, have a successful surgery and um…fuck you?”

“Aww thanks, lad.” Louis smiles genuinely, waving his right middle finger. “Same to you.”

 

||✚||

 

They’re on their way to Frankie’s restaurant for a late lunch together, just him and Avery. A daddy-daughter lunch date. Harry has the day off, so he surprised Avery by picking her up a tad early from school. To say she is excited, is an understatement, that girl is _elated_. She’s all smiles and it warms his heart just to see her so happy to be spending time with him.

The restaurant is in the center of downtown Seattle, so they park a little further out and walk the rest of the way. Avery is doing a bit less walking, and a lot more skipping, happily swinging her and Harry’s joined hands. It starts to rain before they make it to the building, but Avery is more than prepared in her teal blue rainboots and she continues to skip along undeterred. She does, however, pause for a moment to smile up at Harry and tell him that it’s exactly like her favorite movie, _Singing in the Rain_. Harry grins back at her and begins to hum the familiar melody of the famous song from the movie, which Avery joins right in on, and together they hop and skip and sing all the way to the restaurant. Truly, what a glorious feeling.

It’s a lovely restaurant, modern but warm and inviting. The two of them are only standing in the entryway for seconds before Frankie comes greeting them from the back kitchen, dressed professionally in uniform. “You made it!”

“Of course.” Harry lightly kisses her cheek in greeting. “Thank you for hosting our little date.”

“Are you kidding, Harry? I’m so happy to!” Frankie grins widely.

“Hi Aunt Frankie!”

“Hi lovie! Come here you.” Frankie crouches down to give her a warm hug. “Yes, yes, and yes to the entire outfit by the way. You are rocking those rainboots, my girl. Already a fashion queen at the ripe age of nine years old, I love that.”

Avery beams at the compliment, clicking her booted heels together. “You like them?”

“Like them? Girl, I would totally steal them right off your feet if we wore the same size.” Frankie tells her seriously, which has Avery giggling. “Honestly, they’re so cute, I may just squeeze my big, flintstone feet into them anyway.”

“Please don’t go stealing my child’s shoes.” Harry warns, still grinning though.

“Oh, mind your business, Harold.” Frankie waves off.

“I would let you borrow them if they fit you, Aunt Frankie.” Avery offers sweetly.

“Ooh, you’re just the sweetest, I love you.” Frankie hugs her again. “Let me show you to your table.”

Frankie set aside a whole private area for just them, and it makes their time together feel that much more special. The two of them get settled in to their table and Avery is clearly already loving it, she literally has not stopped smiling once.

“So, I’m not giving you menus because I already have the _perfect_ lunch planned out for you.” Frankie explains, standing at the end of their table.

“You do?” Harry wonders curiously.

“Of course I do, Harry. It’s me.”

Avery laughs, finding her aunt so hilarious. “What is it?”

“Snails.” Frankie dramatically widens her eyes as she says it, obviously trying to gross Avery out.

Avery pulls an utterly disgusted face. “Ew! Snails!?”

“Oh my god— _what_?” Frankie gasps as though appalled at Avery’s reaction. “Little queen, you don’t like snails? This just won’t do.”

“Aunt Frankie, please don’t make me eat snails.” Avery worries genuinely.

“She would never, Avie.” Harry reassures his daughter. “She’s just messing with you.”

“Well, who knows what I’ll whip up. This is a French restaurant after all, anything goes.” Frankie shrugs with a teasing smile. “Anyway, lovie, when are you coming over next? My Louis is always looking for you.”

“Aww, is he? I miss him, I haven’t seen him in almost five days now.” Avery says as though that is such a long amount of time. “I need to see my baby.”

“Well, you’ll see him tomorrow, Munch.” Harry tells her. “Your aunt is watching you tomorrow night.”

He and Louis have got a wonderful schedule going with Frankie. She babysits Avery once a week as promised, sometimes more if she offers or if they need it and it gives Harry and Louis time to be alone as a couple.

“Oh! That’s right!” Frankie smiles widely. “Yay! We can have another girls’ night. How awesome does that sound?”

“Except for baby Louis.” Avery reminds. She really is so obsessed with that baby. He is ridiculously cute though, so it makes sense.

“Except for baby Louis.” Frankie repeats with a nod. “He’s the only boy I trust.”

“Hmm. That makes sense.” Avery considers thoughtfully. “Boys are kinda sneaky.”

“Oh girlfriend, you have no idea.” Frankie replies with pursed lips. “But we’ll talk all about it during our girls’ night.”

“Just curious…what exactly do you girls do during girls’ night?” Harry asks innocently.

Frankie raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you identify as a girl?”

“Well, no but—”

“Then it doesn’t concern you, does it.” Frankie interjects, rolling her eyes as she looks back to Avery with a scoff. “Boys, am I right?”

Avery giggles again, looking up apologetically at him with a shrug. “Sorry Daddy.”

Harry’s not even slightly mad about it. He is so glad that Avery has a strong-willed woman as one of her role models. Gemma was a feisty, highly opinionated woman, same as Frankie, and without her mother around, Avery needs that kind of example to look up to. She’s rapidly growing into a young woman and that female empowerment and validation is so important in her life. Avery knows she can come to Harry about literally anything under the sun and he’ll support her and talk it out with her to the best of his human ability and if he doesn’t know the answer himself, he’ll research it until he utterly exhausts himself. But she still may face things that he can’t fully understand because he’s never experienced them, and it’s comforting that she has more people who love her that she can turn to when she needs them. It really does take a village to raise a child.

“Alright babes. I’ve gotta get back to the kitchen now. Enjoy your daddy-daughter lunch date. No snails, I promise.” Frankie winks, blowing them both kisses.

“Thanks, Frankie.”

“See you later, Aunt Frankie!”

“Bye lovie!”

 

||☤||

For once Louis is leaving work on time to meet Harry for their 68th Date. It was that rare, productive kind of day where Louis only had his scheduled surgeries, all of which went brilliantly and left plenty of time for him to update all his charts, answer his emails _and_ he even got a head start on the quarterly reports due for his department.

But Louis probably should have been more suspicious of a day like that in his field because right as he reaches his car in the parking lot, his pager goes off in his jacket pocket.

 _“_ Oh, for fucks sake.” Louis sighs, internally praying it’s just a throwaway page, something that won’t derail his entire evening with Harry. If he’s lucky it’ll just be one of his residents double checking one of his medication orders, or maybe just a chart he needs to sign off on for discharge. But as Louis checks the page, he is hardly shocked to find it to be a 911 page, calling for his immediate help in the emergency room.

“I was _this_ close.” Louis groans as he turns back towards the medical center in a jog. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help, of course he does, this is his passion after all. It’s just that all day he’s been looking forward to the microbrewery date Harry planned for them. They’ve been texting off and on throughout the day about it, and Louis was getting really excited about the prospect of making dumb jokes while critiquing different beers with Harry. It was bound to be a fun time.

When Louis gets to the E.R., it’s a mad house as usual, doctors and nurses running around urgently, calling out orders over the pained sounds of various patients suffering through different levels of trauma.

“Dr. Tomlinson, we need you over here.”

“How bad is it?” Louis asks the E.R. charge nurse.

“A husband and wife. Car accident. Husband, the driver, suffered a head lac from the windshield. Possible diffusion axonal injury with intercranial hemorrhaging. Possible C-spine damage, waiting for scans to confirm. Second and third degree burns cover his left side.” The nurse riddles off at a rapid pace. “Wife sustained bowel perforations as well as a shattered pelvis. Possible lumbar fracture. We need a neuro consult on both.”

“Shit.” Louis breathes out, knowing he’s in for a long night. He starts gowning up with a fresh trauma gown and gloves, heading over to the first patient to start evaluating how he should prioritize his time. From the sound of it, the husband will require Neuro first, while the wife needs General for the abdominal bleed.

“Could you page my resident here please?” Louis requests as he enters the exam room. “Dr. Wesley.”

The nurse nods. “Right away, Doctor.”

“Ortho’s here.” Liam comes sprinting into the emergency room, snapping gloves over his hands. “Where do you want me?”

“Bed 2, Dr. Payne.” The charge nurse directs Liam towards the same patient as Louis.

“What do we got?” Liam asks Louis, quickly looking over the patient’s chart.

“What don’t we got?” Louis answers briefly, checking pupillary function. The patient is completely unconscious, his body most likely shut down out of preservation due to the severe level of trauma and pain. “It’s pretty bad.”

Liam nods, setting the chart down and getting right to work assessing the patient’s spinal injury across from Louis. “Tomlinson, are you on-call tonight?”

“Well, I—”

“Hey Tommo, I didn’t expect to see you here. Date’s over already?” Zayn enters the exam room, gowned up to address the patient’s burns.

“It never started.” Louis says as he makes quick work of his neurological exam, assessing the severity of damage. “And no, I’m not on call tonight, Li. But it looks like I’ll be here anyway.” He turns his attention to the E.R. charge nurse. “Book an O.R. immediately. Severe DAI confirmed as well as unresolved hemorrhaging.”

“Also, we don’t need to wait for C-spine scans to confirm an aggravated disk herniation at C3.” Liam adds quickly. “I’ll scrub in with Dr. Tomlinson.”

“Got it.” The nurse notes, heading back to the nurses’ station.

Liam and Louis begin assuring the stabilization of their patient for immediate surgery, while Zayn does what he can to pretreat the severe burns afflicting the vast majority of his skin to prevent infection. From the looks of it, the patient’s blistering burns are going to take hours of surgical debridement in the O.R. and on top of the cerebral repairs, Louis will probably need to assist Zayn with the nerve damage. They are definitely in for a very long night.

“So Louis how is that going anyway?” Liam asks, while carefully stabilizing the cervical spine to prevent further damage. “You’ve gone on how many dates with Harry now?”

“Li, pass me a stack of hydrogels, would you?” Zayn nods towards the wound dressing cart.

“We’ve had 67 dates.” Louis answers, smiling to himself. Honestly, he can’t believe it’s already been that many. “Tonight would have been Date 68, but I don’t think I’m going to make it anymore.”

“So how does it work exactly? Like is it just every time you get together it’s a date?” Zayn wonders.

“Yeah basically. It’s not always extravagant, planned out dates. Sometimes we don’t do anything but take a nap together or watch a random Disney movie with Avery, but I don’t know…it’s always still… _perfect_.”

“Look at you, all domestic and soft and shit.” Zayn grins knowingly as he delicately places another set of bandages. “I bet you actually grocery shop now.”

“Shut up.” Louis smiles, pausing to type out a few orders on the patient’s chart for the O.R. staff to have ready when they get up there. “I do, by the way. Harry and I have actually done that as a date.”

“ _So_ domestic.” Zayn teases. “That’s the real power of love right there.”

“You would know. You do all the shopping for our house.” Liam says.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Zayn agrees, securing another hydrocolloid bandage. “Now ask me how often I went to the grocery store when I was single. The answer is never. I couldn’t even tell you where the closest one was back then. But now I even have a favorite store.”

“A favorite store? Really, Zayn?”

“Oh yeah man, Ken’s Market, downtown—it has locally grown produce, it’s the best. And the wine selection is pretty good too.” Zayn chatters. “You and Harry should go on your next date.”

“I’ll pass it on to him, he’ll love it” Louis grins.

“Ok, I’m good to go up to the O.R. now, if you boys are.” Zayn announces, finishing up the last of his initial dressings.

“I’m here! I’m here!” Charlie bursts into the exam room in a flurry, clearly out of breath from sprinting here. “Sorry Dr. Tomlinson—I came as fast as I could, I swear.”

“It’s alright, Wesley.” Louis dismisses as he, Liam, and Zayn start pushing the gurney out of the exam room. “I need you to call Harry for me and tell him that I can’t make it tonight. Make sure you say how sorry I am and all that…and tell him that I’ll call him whenever I can.” 

“Um…ok. Yes, sir.” Charlie nods repeatedly, following after him. “Is…is that all?”

“No, this patient has a severe DAI aggravated by an ICH from the impact of the accident.” Louis quickly briefs her. “You’ve never seen those injuries together, right?”

Charlie shakes her head. “No, I’ve never seen one.”

“Tell me the most important thing to monitor for in traumatic injuries like this.” Louis tests.

“Oh—um we would monitor for the occurrence of a secondary brain injury.”

“And what would that present as exactly?”

“Hypoxia, cerebral edema, ischemia and elevated ICP.” Charlie answers quickly. “There could also be signs of acidosis or hypercapnia.”

Louis gives her a proud smile. “You’re scrubbing in with me.”

“Wait, really?” Charlie gasps in hopeful surprise. “I’m off scut?”

“Yes, really. Hurry up.” Louis calls over his shoulder, already halfway down the hall and exiting the main E.R doors. “Meet me in O.R. three when you’re done.”

“Right got it. Thank you so much, Dr. Tomlinson!” Charlie enthuses, unable to keep the smile off of her face. Louis remembers exactly how exciting it is to be finally taken off of scut duty and he’s happy to have his favorite resident back.

 

||☤||

 

 

When Louis gets out of his surgery, that ended up totaling 12 hours, he’s dead tired. The whole procedure was riddled with unexpected repairs and unforeseen complications, his patient knocked right on death’s door several times but somehow kept pulling through, leaving Louis not only physically drained, but emotionally drained. The good thing is that his patient is stable and made it off the table alive, but on the downside the patient’s wife is still in critical condition and once General and Ortho finish up, Louis has still got a whole other surgery to complete. And to be honest, he doesn’t really know what is going to get him through that, but he just needs a moment not to think about it. So he pulls his phone out of his pocket to finally call Harry.

It’s 7:57 A.M. so that means he has probably just dropped Avery off at school. Louis’ brain is so frazzled that he can’t quite remember if Harry works today or not, but if he doesn’t then he should be free right about now.

The dial tone only rings twice before Harry picks up, and Louis has honestly never been more thankful.

“Hi baby.” Harry greets warmly through the speaker and his voice alone grounds Louis instantly as it notoriously does. “Good morning.”

“Morning, love.” Louis answers over a heavy yawn that morphs his entire voice. “Look, I’m really sorry about last night. There was a—”

“No need to apologize Lou, I know who I’m dating.” Harry answers, without needing the lengthy excuse Louis was prepared to give him. “And Charlie honestly painted the most heroic and beautiful picture of you when she called me last night. Not that I didn't already know you’re a fucking hero.”

Louis wants to laugh, but it ends up coming out as weak gust of amused breath. He scrubs a hand over his face, knowing he needs to go find a good, strong cup of coffee before he goes back in.

“Aww Lou, babe, are you done for the day?”

Louis can practically see the concerned frown forming on Harry’s face through the sound of his voice alone. “No, not yet. I’ve gotta go back in there in a bit actually.”

“But you sound so tired, baby.” Harry continues to worry. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be ok…yeah. Stop worrying, H. My part of the surgery shouldn’t take too long and I’ve definitely done worse in my career.” Louis begins to push the door open to the attendings’ lounge, hoping to find some spare food he can scrounge off of.

“Well, have you eaten anything?”

“No, I—” Louis’ voice drops off, jaw falling open as he gazes into the lounge.

Harry is there balancing a tray of coffee and a bag of scones with his phone wedged between his ear and shoulder. When he meets Louis’ eyes, he offers him a cute little shrug. “Twenty-minute coffee date? I’ve got lattes—yours has three shots of espresso in it to hopefully wake you up a bit and then of course, your favorite scones.”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIcUFL_xOqA&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR7yXYtGmwZ9-1Ev-Jk3Xs&index=6)

The sight of his boyfriend alone is enough to make his exhausted body want to cry. He swears he loves Harry a little more each and every day. Louis doesn’t even know how he got into the attendings’ lounge, but he doesn’t even give a shit. Harry drops the breakfast goods onto the table and silently holds his arms open in invitation.

Louis instantly sags into Harry’s arms without a second’s hesitation, hardly even holding himself up as he tosses his weight at Harry. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Harry kisses the crown of Louis’ head, enveloping his body completely. “And all it took was a scone.”

Louis hums, tilting his head back to look up at Harry. “You’re honestly the best boyfriend in the world, you know that?”

“So it’s safe to say that the wooing is working?” Harry drops a kiss to Louis’ nose. “Cuz I’m really busting my ass.”

 _“_ Ooh…” Louis sighs contently, biting his lower lip in a full grin. “The wooing is _definitely_ working.” 

And for twenty minutes Louis snuggles up to Harry on one of the couches with a warm cup of coffee in his hands for Date 68. Harry lightly trails his fingertips up and down Louis’ back and Louis could easily fall asleep, he is so completely at peace. But he’s also way more awake as his highly caffeinated drink starts to kick in.

Louis tips his head back against Harry’s shoulder, sitting up to kiss the corner of Harry’s mouth. “Thank you, H.”

 “Anytime, babe.”

“I’d like to say that I’m gonna come over tonight and really thank you, but I’d probably just pass out on top of you.”

Harry smirks in interest. “I can’t say I would completely mind that actually.”

“Ok, let’s just plan on that then, we can get naked and I’ll use you as my pillow and fall asleep.” Louis describes, sounding perfectly serious. “Perfect date night.”

“So perfect.” Harry laughs, sipping his own latte. “You know what I want to do sometime?”

“What’s that?” Louis adjusts so he can better see Harry’s face.

“On-call room sex.” Harry suggests with a naughty, wicked sort of glint in his eye.

Louis is already protesting, shaking his head. “Oh no babe, but you’re worth so much more to me than that.”

“Mmm, I know but…it’d be kinda hot, yeah?”

“No?” Louis pulls a disturbed face.

“Yes.” Harry nods encouragingly, raising his eyebrows. “You… and your scrubs…”

“I thought you weren’t into that kind of thing.” Louis breaks off a piece of his chocolate scone. “I specifically remember you saying that once upon a time.”

“Well that was probably a premature decision because it was well before you started wearing navy scrubs.” Harry explains, his gaze deviating to run along Louis’ body. “It does things to your eyes and with the stubble on your cheeks—It’s distracting. You’re just so much hotter now.”

“So I wasn’t hot before?”

“Oh, you definitely were, but now...it’s just… _wow_. You know?” Harry describes, in a way that frankly makes no sense, but Louis will allow it. “I think it’s really the scrubs. I just love navy scrubs.”

Louis laughs a bit. “I could get you your own pair of scrubs, if that’s what you’re really interested in.”

“No, I’m interested in you in the scrubs. But actually— _ooh_ , that could be really fun.” Harry sits up as he thinks about it more, eyes lighting up excitedly. “You could be my patient.”

Louis grins slowly, raising his eyebrows in amusement. “Are you suggesting that we play doctor?”

“I’m not _not_ suggesting it.” Harry smirks knowingly.

“…In an on-call room?” Louis finishes. “A dirty, gross, tiny, cramped, _pathetic_ on-call room…”

“For me, baby consider it for me.” Harry pleads, pouting a bit. “You know you want to. Deep down, you know it would be fun.”

Louis goes back to sipping on his coffee with both hands around the cup. “I’ll blow you in an on-call room, but that’s where I draw the line.”

“You know what, I’ll take that.” Harry nods amicably, shrugging. “Just know that you’re limiting us sexually. So that’s that.”

Louis sighs, rolling his eyes, but there’s still a grin on his lips. “Ok, how about this, I’ll get you a pair of scrubs and you can show up and page me to meet you. And if I’m not in surgery…I’ll take you to an on-call room…”

“A real-life booty call.” Harry wiggles his eyebrows stupidly. “I can’t fucking wait.”

“ _But!_ ” Louis interjects with one finger held up. “If I’m already in surgery, then tough luck, lover boy. You can enjoy yourself in on-call room.”

“Easy. It’s all about timing. I think I pretty much have your usual schedule memorized anyway, so get your throat ready for a full on-call room experience.”

Louis chokes on his coffee, laughing unexpectedly, “I can’t believe you just said that out loud.”

Harry smirks, clearly proud of himself. “It’s true.”

“Maybe not. As of right now, I’m switching up my schedule completely, so you’ll never know where I am. Plus, I’m always getting paged all over this hospital, who knows where I’ll be.”

“Oh please, you’re just trying to scare me and throw me off. But I’m not falling for that, babe.” Harry scoffs, undeterred. “I know you too well to be played by you. You’re a creature of habit and you’re not changing shit. The pages are a bit of a road block, but I’m not worried.”

“Overconfidence is a gateway to failure so…”

“Or perhaps it is the path to a perfectly timed blowjob.”

Louis giggles fondly, shaking his head. “You’re a lost cause.”

Louis’ pager starts to ring with the pre-op page he’s been dreading. “Noooo, five more minutes.” He pitifully begs the ringer, shaking his head and snuggling closer to Harry. It’s honestly just what he needed to get through the rest of the day: a fresh coffee, a good laugh and a warm cuddle with his boyfriend.

“Hey, go be my hero.” Harry whispers softly against Louis’ hair. “And tonight, we can 69 on Date 69.”

Louis cracks up again, nearly tipping over his coffee as he laughs. He casts his head all the way back against Harry’s shoulder to look up at him, smiling wide. “Promise?”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking about it intently since our fifth date to be honest.” Harry smirks, kissing Louis’ nose. “It’s happening. Well, as long as you can stay awake. Maybe you should have a nap first.”

“As long as I can use your ass as a pillow.”

“Ooh, please, I’d be _sooo_ honored.”

 

||✚||

 

It’s their 72nd Date and somehow they find themselves in a place they’ve found themselves time and time again. Well, actually they didn’t just find themselves here, Louis literally dragged Harry all the way up here without cause or reason or explanation. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but this time around, Harry’s only complaint is that it’s nearing midnight and all he wants to do is take off his suit and fall into bed. It doesn’t help that Louis has been acting weird all night long. He took Harry out for a lovely, romantic dinner at an extravagant restaurant, but the entire time he seemed to be completely distracted about something. He was also spacey and ridiculously jumpy, which isn’t like him at all. And now, he just won’t talk and Harry is not sure why.

“Babe, you know I always love coming up here with you…but why must we do this now?” Harry questions, yawning heavily. “I just wanna go to bed.”

Harry wouldn’t say that he’s irritated, but he is really tired and when he’s tired, he knows he can be irritable. But there’s clearly something bothering Louis and Harry is determined to get to the bottom of it.

“Louis?” Harry calls his name softly. “Lou, baby, are you ok? You haven’t been yourself all night.”

Louis doesn’t respond at all and it’s like he’s in some kind of focused trance or maybe even on the verge of an emotional storm. They make it out of the forest and to the open grassy clearing and there’s nothing but silence between them and it’s starting to worry the shit out of Harry.

“Louis? Please just talk to me.” Harry practically begs of him, tenderly squeezing his hand. “Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong or say something or—”

That seems to snap Louis right out of it and he turns around then, looking so sincerely apologetic. “Oh my god, _no—_ no, Harry you didn’t do anything wrong, love. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you—I’ve been in my head all fucking night…and I think I’ve probably ruined our date. _Fuck_.”

Harry shakes his head, expression softening. “No, never. You didn’t ruin it, Lou.”

“I did.” Louis sighs heavily, lowering his head. “It’s ok, you can say it.”

“Maybe not my favorite date…” Harry admits slowly, offering Louis a guilty expression. “But that’s ok, bad dates are ok. They still make for fun memories after all, right?”

It gets Louis to laugh a little, although he’s still clearly stressed. “Yeah…I guess…”

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3JBpQ0-p-l8&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR7yXYtGmwZ9-1Ev-Jk3Xs&index=7)

Harry tilts his head. “Are you going to tell me, first, what’s going on with you and second, why we are up here at twelve in the morning?”

Louis exhales, heavy and long, running both of his hands through his fringe. “Ok so…I did something big…and um…all night I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you about it—that’s why I wanted to go somewhere really nice and special. But then I kept talking myself out of telling you because it suddenly sounded like a fucking terrible shit idea and I think I might have completely psyched myself out thinking you’d hate it or something and…I don’t know, Harry? I…I’m overthinking _everything_ …so I brought you up here because I thought it would make more sense that way…but…”

Harry simply goads Louis into a gentle hug in leu of a response, rubbing his back until he begins to settle down a bit in his arms. And Louis hugs him back tightly, burying his head to Harry’s chest. Louis said it was something big and Harry has no idea what that could mean, but what Harry does know is that because of his past, big steps sometimes cause Louis to panic or overthink to extreme degrees. And all Harry wants Louis to know is that it’s ok and that he can panic and freak out for as long as he needs, and Harry will still be right there waiting. “Whatever it is, Lou…I promise I want to hear it and we can stand out here all night until you’re ready to tell me. There’s no pressure.”

Louis nods gradually, still clinging to Harry’s midsection with his head pressed to where Harry’s heart is beating. “Thank you, H.”

“Of course, baby.” Harry drops a kiss to Louis’ temple. “I only care about one thing and that, my love, is you.”

Louis takes another long breath before separating himself from Harry completely. He starts pacing back and forth in small circles, seeming to be silently deliberating with himself. “Ok, fuck it—here it goes. So I’ve been thinking and you know how none of the houses we look at feel right?”

Harry nods his head slowly, uncertain of where Louis is going with this. “Yeah…”

“Yeah…” Louis nods along with him. “That’s cuz they aren’t right. Not for us. There isn’t a house for us.”

Harry keeps nodding and they probably look like two broken bobbleheads, but he just wants Louis to feel encouraged enough to finish his thought. “Ok…”

Louis pauses to look around for a moment. “But this place...it’s always felt, I don’t know like… _home_.”

Harry’s eyebrows are furrowed as he looks to Louis incredulously, attempting to put the missing pieces together.

“I bought it.” Louis’ face breaks into a full, but still impossibly nervous smile. “We bought it.”

Harry blinks, trying to process the words coming from Louis’ mouth.  

“Maybe it was impulsive, or something, fuck—I don’t know…” Louis shakes his head, hand in his hair. “We’ve been trespassing for years…but it’s ours now, baby. It’s ours to do whatever we want with it.”

Harry is totally speechless. He looks around at the welcomingly familiar meadow filled with memories that thread together their story. And for them to be able to call this place home, wholly and truly home, it’s…well, it’s everything.

“Oh my god—say something Harry, please.” Louis panics a little, still pacing back and forth in the open field. “Am I absolutely ridiculous for buying this? I mean it made sense in my head? At first at least. But I don’t know…it’ll take a while, you know? To find the right contractor and figure out the design and then get it all built but…I think the wait would be worth it in the end? Right?”

Harry turns back to face Louis again and his face splits as he lets out a watery exhale, on the verge of fully breaking down into tears. “You’re…you’re building us a house?”

Louis starts to nod his head again slowly, tearing up more and more the longer he gazes at Harry. “Yeah…”

Harry gasps expressively and he’s no longer just on the verge of tears, no, he’s full steam ahead, well on his way to bawling his eyes out. Harry truly can’t believe it. Why is his boyfriend, like, the sweetest man ever?

“Harry, I swear I’m going to build you the perfect house.” Louis declares and there’s so much hope and wonder behind his voice. “And we can design every single part of it together and it’ll be made just for us and our family and our future. Whatever you want, H… _anything_ you want—name it and it’s yours, baby. I want to give you everything you ever wanted.”

“L-Louis…” Harry’s voice is hardly audible, he can’t begin to stop crying—it’s far too much and he can’t _take_ it.

Louis starts walking around the field, walking the potential outline of where their future house will one day stand. “We could put a breakfast nook over here, because you always like to look out of the window when you have tea in the morning. And we’ll build you a really big kitchen with, like, four ovens so you can cook and bake whatever you want with Avery. And…we could have a swing set built in the backyard for our kids, maybe a pool or something too, they’d love that, I think. I know Avery will…”

“Our k-kids.” Harry sobs, hand over his mouth.

“Yeah, our kids…” Louis nods emotionally, crying too. “We have to have a ton of bedrooms for them and a room for them to play and have tea parties and pillow fights and fun stuff like that. Avery will probably want to make all the decisions about her room, so I won’t say anything else about it, I’ll leave it all to her.”

Harry laughs fondly and it’s wet and impossibly choked up.

“I think we should have a porch that wraps around our entire house and a really big patio so we can have our Saturday brunches outside sometimes.” Louis envisions thoughtfully. “And our bedroom could face this way…with a sky roof so we can wake up to our favorite view every morning and fall asleep under the stars…” Louis describes the way he sees it in his head and the way he depicts it, it’s like Harry can already picture it perfectly and it’s so  _beautiful_ , and Harry is only getting more and more overwhelmed. “And that feeling we always get coming up here…our feeling that only we know…the one we never, ever want to forget…we’ll always have it whenever we come home…”

There’s far too much space between them right now and Harry is practically running over to where Louis is across the meadow, jumping into his arms with enough force to send them both toppling down to the grass. They’re both laughing and crying and kissing and it all feels so perfect, hardly even real.

“I l-love you. I love you.” Harry cries expressively, scattering frantic kisses to Louis’ cheeks and his nose and his forehead and his chin, anywhere his lips can reach, overcome with so much love for him. “It’s p-perfect…it’s everything—I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too.” Louis whispers back, reaching up to hold the sides of Harry’s face, brushing his flopping hair away from his eyes. “And I’m sorry for overthinking it so much earlier.”

“Don’t be sorry, Lou. This is really, really big.” Harry sniffles, residual tears still tracking his cheeks. “Also, it’s definitely one of my favorite dates now.”

Louis laughs, caressing Harry’s cheekbone. “Well, I’m glad I could rectify the date I almost killed.”

“So, if we were to have sex right now, it wouldn’t be public indecency, right? It would just be me making love to the love of my life in my house.”

 “I just love how that brain of yours thinks.” Louis grins, pulling Harry’s head back down to kiss him again.

“Me too.”

 

 

||☤||

 

It’s Saturday.

It’s Saturday and that automatically means that there will be some sort of brunch being held in their house. It has quickly become a raving tradition in their family, something they all look forward to each and every week. Sometimes Niall and Charlie will come over and join them or Zayn and Liam or even both couples if Harry and Louis are up to cooking that much food. Frankie joins them quite often as well, and what’s wonderful about her is that she completely takes over cooking everything and it always tastes absolutely delicious. Just one of the many perks of having a super talented chef as an adopted family member.

But on this particular Saturday, it’s just the three of them. These things are never too rushed; they usually mosey down to the kitchen around mid-morning still in pajamas or sweats and then Harry likes to officially announce their chosen menu for the day and then they all cook together.

Avery and Louis are sitting next to each other on the barstools along the kitchen island, both of them sipping on fresh mugs of tea while they await Harry’s brunch announcement.

“Alright, it has come to my attention that today or sometime around now—I’m not exactly certain of the specifics, but it doesn’t matter because we are doing this— _anyway_ —for all intents and purposes, today is our lovely Benedict’s 10th birthday. And in honor of our favorite pup, we will be having none other than Eggs Benedict for our Saturday brunch.”

“Daddy, what is Eggs Benedict, and will I like it?” Avery asks right away, sounding worried.

“It’s disgusting and no you will not.” Louis answers certainly before Harry can.

“No, no.” Harry waves Louis off. “Munch, you will keep an open mind and try it and who knows you may have a new favorite food.”

“Don’t lie to the poor girl, Harry.” Louis turns his barstool to Avery. “Eggs Benedict is like sad runny egg sauce on a toasted muffin with a random slab of meat in the middle. The textures are weird the flavors are even more weird—it’s awful.”

“Eww, yuck.” Avery makes a disgusted face. “Daddy, I don’t want that.”

“Me either. Poached eggs are a sin. A crime against all humanity.” Louis complains with his nose upturned. “Why can’t we have eggs on toast like sane people? Or a nice fry-up? Something wholesome.”

“Enough. This is for Benedict, ok?” Harry tries again, more determined. “Avery, sweetheart, if you don’t like it, there is always cereal.”

“ _Cereal_?” Louis gasps in exaggerated horror. “On a _Saturday_? It’s a not a school day, H. I think we are more than entitled to a decent Saturday brunch. Right, Aves?”

“Yeah, I want something yummy. It’s _Saturday_!” Avery echoes Louis’ exact tone.

“I love the dog, he’s quite literally my favorite lad. But why must we suffer on his birthday. He wouldn’t want that for us.” Louis looks down at Benedict laying under the legs of Avery’s barstool. “You wouldn’t want that, huh Benny Boy? Yeah, I know, B. Tell mean old Harry you hate your name and poached eggs too.”

“First of all, Benedict is very fond of his name, we’ve discussed it.” Harry asserts confidently. “Second, Benedict’s opinion on poached eggs remains neutral at this time.”

Louis purses his lips at Harry flatly. “And you know this how?”

“Because we’ve discussed it, as I’ve previously stated. We’re very close, he and I.” Harry answers diplomatically. “Anyway, we are having Eggs Benny and that’s final.”

“Bleh.” Louis groans in disgust, lowering his head down to the countertop. “And who even calls it Eggs Benny?”

“Me! I do!” Harry defends. “And I’m sure others do too. It’s cute.”

“No. Just no.”

“You both just wait, it’s going to be great, ok? Trust me.” With that, Harry begins busying himself around the kitchen, tying his favorite apron around his waist and getting right to work grabbing the necessary ingredients from the fridge.

Louis leans closer to Avery, whispering privately to her. “Don’t worry Aves, I won’t let you starve. We can sneak out when he’s not looking and get a real breakfast somewhere. We can take Benny too, he’ll love the drive.”

Avery grins mischievously. “Can we get donuts?”

“Oh Aves, my little love, you read my mind.” Louis smiles proudly. “You and me, we’re always on the same page. Incredible.”

Avery mirrors his smile. “We are, aren’t we?”

Louis glances at Harry, finding him still nose deep in the fridge. “Alright, I’ll create a diversion and you take my keys and Benny and sneak out to my car. I’ll meet you there when the coast is clear.”

“Got it.” Avery nods once.

“Go team.” Louis whispers, high fiving her hand under the counter.

Avery slips off of her stool and starts nonchalantly heading out of the kitchen, but the movement seems to trigger Harry into looking over at them.

“Munchie, where are you g—”

“So H, do you even know how to make Eggs Benedict?” Louis interrupts him, giving Avery the chance to dart out of the kitchen.

Harry turns his attention towards Louis. “Um well actually, I saw it on a cooking show once and honestly anything is possible with the internet.”

“Right, right.” Louis nods, coming up to the kitchen island and blocking Harry’s view of the stairs, Avery is carefully sneaking up. “And I assume that makes you a master at it then?”

“I don’t think I’d describe myself as a master, babe. But I can follow a recipe. Plus, I could always call Frankie or something if I really screw up.”

Harry is turning back towards the direction where Avery is still in view, so Louis grabs ahold of his jaw and kisses him deeply, implementing the only distraction he can think of really.

It clearly takes Harry by surprise, but he doesn’t fight Louis, kissing him back. Although Louis does peek his eyes open to keep watch for Avery’s sake. Harry pulls back, but Louis doesn’t let him, keeping the diversion alive.

“God, I just can’t get enough of you sometimes.” Louis tugs Harry in for a tight hug, holding his head close so he can’t move freely. And behind Harry’s back, Louis waves directions at Avery, signaling for her to use the front door, but she seems to be looking for Benny’s leash. “You are just soo sexy in the kitchen and your little apron is adorable.”

“Aww, well thanks, Lou.” Harry beams at him, before starting towards the far cabinet.

Louis jumps back in front of him, probably too eagerly. “Um…can I help you, would that be alright? Can I do that for you?”

Harry pauses. “You actually want to help me?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah of course, love. _Always_. Yeah. Yes.”

Harry frowns in suspicion and Louis thinks he may be overdoing it. But it’s hard for him to swindle Harry, well it’s hard for Louis to lie to Harry in general, so this is truly the impossible task.

“Alright. Well take these eggs and—”

Louis purposely lets them slip from his hand, splattering two eggs right on the hardwood floor. It does exactly what he intended and instantaneously directs Harry’s attention to the floor so that Avery can scurry out of the front door with Benny undetected.

“Oh well fuck me, am I right?” Louis laughs it off lightly. “So clumsy. Wow. Sorry about that, love.”

Harry reaches for a few paper towels, eyeing Louis curiously. “Louis, you’re never clumsy, you have ridiculously steady hands. I mean, you’re a surgeon for fucks sake...”

“Uh huh yeah…well, we all have off days, I suppose...” Louis shrugs, averting his eyes because Harry is sure to see that he’s lying through his teeth. “Uh so maybe I’m not the best help to you today cuz…I’m so…clumsy and uh bad, you know? At this.”

“What?” Harry looks so lost and confused by everything Louis is saying.

“I’m just gonna go…” Louis points off awkwardly behind him to no particular place, randomly moving his body in a weird way. “You know…make a few calls and…such…while the day is…young…yes…right…”

“Are you ok?”

“Yep, yes. Yep. Mhmm. Yes… sir...” Louis nods, smiling nearly manically. “You just keep doing you. Keep making those Eggs Benny that we all really want. So. Much.”

Harry is still frowning, leaning his hip against the countertop. “Ok…”

“Ok. Cool. Cool. Yeah.” Louis continues nodding his head, he can’t stop, and he knows how hysterical he must look. He backs out of the kitchen slowly with Harry still looking at him like he suddenly sprouted two heads.

Once out of view, Louis practically sprints out to the car. Avery is already sitting in the front seat waiting for him when he jumps in. He doesn’t waste a second before pushing the start button, ready to throw the gear in drive. “We’ve gotta go now, Aves. He’s definitely on to me. I just can’t lie to your dad, I was acting so weird and—”

“ _Louis_!”

“AH!” Louis squeals, jumping in his seat, completely startled by Harry appearing out of literally nowhere. “Where did he come from? Did you see him sneak up, Aves?”

“Nope.” Avery starts giggling at him, clearly amused by his reaction. “Maybe he followed you?”

Louis chances a contrite glance at Harry outside of his car, guiltily rolling the driver side window down. “Yes, darling?”

“You’re trying to escape! I _knew_ it! Shame on you both!” Harry admonishes, peeking into the cabin of Louis’ Range Rover, gasping in utter dismay. “Oh my god, is that Benedict? Oh, I can’t believe you!”

“Babe, Avery and I just want some donuts, ok?” Louis tries to explain. “Is that _so_ wrong?”

“Yes, it is so wrong.” Harry defends, still frowning. “Because it’s Eggs Benedict day.”

“Please Daddy pleaaaase.” Avery starts pouting in that adorably manipulative way that she does so well and Louis has never been more proud. “I really, really, _reaaally_ want a donut.”

“She really, really, _reaaally_ wants a donut.” Louis echoes, pouting his lips as well. “Have a heart, Harry.”

“And Benny loves donuts! It’ll be like a little birthday cake for him!” Avery adds next. “He’ll be so happy!”

“It’s true, yeah.” Louis nods along with wide eyes. “You can’t put a candle on Eggs Benedict, but you can put one on a donut. Just saying.”

“And we promise that will try your Eggs Benedict if you let us have donuts with it.” Avery pledges genuinely.

“Wait, we will? Louis twists all the way around in his seat to ask her.

“Yes, we will, Louis.” Avery nods towards him. “It’s only fair.”

“Fine, we will.” Louis agrees with a sigh, addressing Harry again.

They’ve successfully chipped away at Harry’s stern disapproving face as he lets out his own sigh. But his gaze is soft as he looks at them. “What am I going to do with you two?”

“Letting us get our donuts would be a nice start, I’d say.” Louis grins hopefully.

Harry deliberates, eyeing them quietly. “Pick them up and come right back.”

“Yes, yes. We won’t even open the box till we get back home.”

“Good and bring me a raspberry filled one.”

“Yes, of course you got it. Thank you, love you.” Louis pokes his head out of the car window to kiss Harry’s cheek. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

Louis rolls the window back up and gets the car going before Harry can change his mind or anything. At this point, Louis can’t let anything stop him from getting his donuts. “Nice going, Aves. You really sold him.”

“Well, he’s a big old softy, you know.” Avery smiles, waving at her dad who is still standing along the driveway in his apron.

“Oh, I do know.” Louis grins fondly. “Gotta love him though.”

 

 

||☤||

 

On the night that would be their 81st Date, Louis ends up taking Harry with him to Lad’s Night. They get to the bar a bit earlier than the other boys, which gives them time to have a few drinks and a mini date of their own to catch up on each other’s days. Zayn, Liam, and Niall all arrive around the same time an hour later, and the five of them gather in their typical booth near the back.

“Harry, welcome to your first official Lad’s Night.” Liam announces, giving Harry a small round of applause that the rest of the table joins in on. They all lift their glasses in a toast to commence the start of the night.

“I’m happy to be here.” Harry bows his head a bit, smiling.

“It’s going to be an adjustment for me because we’ve spent so many of these talking about you.” Zayn admits honestly. “You’re like, the go-to topic of conversation.”

“I’m sure.” Harry laughs, nodding.

“No, that’s not true.” Louis defends.

“Oh please.” Niall says flatly. “We even spent the last one talking about him because you wouldn’t shut up about how good he is in bed.”

Louis blushes a bit, hiding behind his nearly empty glass. “I mean that’s not _all_ I talked about…”

Harry grins, leaning against Louis. “That good, huh?”

Louis shoves Harry lightly in a playful way, rolling his eyes. He drops his hand to Harry’s leg, running it up his thigh and Harry has his arm cinched around Louis’ waist, nearly pulling him into his lap. They start giggling together, completely infatuated, but to be fair they’ve had way more to drink than anyone else at the table.

“Could you guys be any more gross?” Niall complains.

“Yes. Definitely.” Louis nods slowly, not taking his eyes off of Harry.

“Impossible.” Zayn disbelieves. “You’ve already reached peak gross levels.”

Louis glances at Zayn, raising an eyebrow in challenge, before turning his attention to Harry again. Oh, they can be _so_ much grosser. “Hey baby, can I have your gum?”

“Sure.” Harry smirks and Louis leans up and kisses him hard, making an unnecessarily loud show out of it. And after a few seconds, Louis pulls back, proudly displaying Harry’s gum between his own teeth.

“Now that’s just nasty.” Liam grimaces, features scrunched.

“Ok lads, if Louis and Harry are done exchanging saliva samples, I have some news.” Niall announces, face already breaking into a smile.

“You’re finally going to revitalize your youth and bring back the frosted tips I loved so much.” Zayn guesses first.

“You tried out the recipe I gave you?” Harry tries next.

“You’ve stopped abusing on-call rooms?” Louis hopes.

Liam deliberates the longest over his guess. “You’re finally going to adopt a dog?”

“Definitely not, not yet but I will, fuck you, and…maybe?” Niall answers, addressing each of them in order. “But that’s not it.”

“Damnit.” Zayn sighs heavily. “I miss you as a blonde.”

“Zayn, for the last time, no parent will take me seriously as their child’s doctor with fucking platinum streaks in my hair.” Niall explains to him. “I don’t know how I got into med school with that hair in the first place.”

“Because it was a fucking look that’s why!” Zayn says adamantly.

“Mmm...” Louis shakes his head skeptically. “Was it though? Was it really?”

“You know it was.” Zayn claims stubbornly. “I think I’m going to do it myself. What the hell right?”

“It would make way more sense in your department, so please knock yourself out.” Niall encourages wholeheartedly. “Anyway, can I announce my news now?”

The four of them oblige, tuning their complete attention to Niall who looks like he might burst at any minute if he doesn’t say what he needs to say.

“I proposed to Charlie last night!” Niall reveals, smiling so big, it practically takes up his whole face. “And she said yes! I’m engaged!”

 _“What?”_ Zayn gasps first, jaw falling open. “Oh my god, I never thought this day would come.”

“I know!” Niall enthuses happily. “I can’t believe it either!”

“Niall, that’s wonderful!” Liam is sat right at his side, so he hugs Niall close, fluffing his hair.

“Please tell me you didn’t propose in an on-call room.” Louis says seriously. “I will scream.”

“No, Louis! I didn’t! Thought about it though...” Niall jokes with a knowing smirk.

Louis rubs his temples. “Please don’t joke like that. My sanity is so fragile.”

“How’d you ask her?” Harry wonders. “I want to hear the story.”

“Well I’ve been carrying around the ring for a little while now—”

“You have!” Louis interrupts Niall in disbelief. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you work with her everyday and you could have let it slip or given too many hints or something.” Niall explains, which is a pretty valid explanation.

“Niall, I would _never_.” Louis defends, hand touched to his chest. “But fine, I see your point. Please continue.”

“So Charlie really loves hot air balloons—it’s a long story, but it has to do with her favorite memory as a kid. Anyway, I surprised her by renting a hot air balloon—they are fucking terrifying by the way, the whole time we were up there I felt so nauseous and not just because I was nervous about proposing.” Niall describes, a slight look of fear in his eyes. “But I got over it for her and we watched the sunset together and she loved it so much, she was so happy and that’s really all I wanted. And then she cried when I asked her to marry me, it was perfect.”

“Aww, congratulations, mate.” Harry beams happily. “Charlie is so lovely, and you make such a cute couple.”

“I’m really so happy for you, Ni.” Louis gushes warmly, they really are perfect for each other. “Another round on me to celebrate.”

They order another round of fresh drinks and cheerfully toast to Niall’s engagement, all of them couldn’t be more excited for him.

“You guys are next.” Louis points his finger between Liam and Zayn as he knocks back his seventh shot of tequila of the night. They glance at each other, sharing a strange private look that reeks of secretive suspicion. “Wait—what was that?”

“What?” Liam pales, already looking guilty of something as his gaze snaps back to Louis.

“ _That_ look.” Harry emphasizes, nodding his glass towards them.

“You saw it too, right H?”

“We all saw it.” Niall agrees, frowning. “What gives, boys?”

“Oh, it’s um...uh…” Liam stalls, opening and closing his mouth, but not saying much else.

“Don’t Liam.” Zayn warns quietly, glaring at him seriously.

Liam sighs, clearly wanting to say whatever it is. “Babe, I want to tell someone.”

“Tell someone what?” Louis leans in closer, elbows resting on the table.

Liam and Zayn look back and forth at each other, seeming to have a silent conversation with their eyes alone, which Louis would say is creepy, but as he does it with Harry all the time, he really can’t say shit about it.

“We’re married.” Liam bursts suddenly like he’s been dying to say it his whole life. “Like  _married_ married. Not work married, honest to god married. I’m legally married to Zayn.”

“What. The. Fuck.” Louis gasps loudly in shocked dismay. “Zayn, is this true?”

Zayn exhales, casting his head back. “You can’t keep a secret can you, Li?”

“When the hell did you get married?” Niall asks, eyes wide.

“Like two weeks ago.” Zayn admits.

“Well, I’d say congratulations are in order yet again.” Harry smiles happily. “We should order another rou—”

“You would _rob_ me of my Best Man speech...” Louis interjects, and he hasn’t altered his disapproving face slightly, still in shock.

“No Lou, it wasn’t like that—”

“That’s hurtful, Z. I’d expect it from Liam, but not you.”

“Um what.” Liam furrows his brow in offense. “What do you mean, you’d expect it from me? It was his idea!”

“Zayn, are you fucking kidding me right now?!” Louis gasps again in pure disappointment.

“It wasn’t planned! I swear!” Zayn defends, trying to explain his thought process. “We went up to a cabin in the mountains for our anniversary…and it was just so romantic, and I don’t know…I looked at him and I just thought…I wanna marry you right now.”

“So you _eloped_.” Louis pinches his brow, shaking his head. “And you didn’t even tell me! Are we even friends!? I need another drink.” He downs another one of his shots, wincing as it burns down his throat.

“You have to admit it’s kind of cute, baby. They’re in love.” Harry says to Louis. “I’m really happy for you guys.”

“Shh Harry, no. No. No.” Louis shakes his head adamantly, sitting back up. “Zayn _knows_ how much I was looking forward to being his Best Man. I talk about it all the damn time with him. Since the very beginning! I’ve been forcing them together for years!”

“How about you give your speech at Niall’s wedding?” Liam suggests, trying to be helpful.

“Yeah, that would be good.” Zayn agrees.

“It’s not the same and you know it.” Louis pouts. “I have a completely different speech for Niall and Charlie. It’s not interchangeable.”

“You could say it now.”

“For whom?” Louis dramatically holds up his hands in question. “I have no audience, no wedding party, no newlywed grooms and therefore no reason to give my exclusive, heartfelt speech that I’ve been practicing for years now. It was a tearjerker…”

“I want to hear it though.” Zayn begs, sounding sad.

“Then you shouldn’t have gotten married in the absence of my presence.” Louis says bitterly. “Get married for real or die not hearing my speech.”

“Louis, we are married for real.” Liam reminds.

“You didn’t have the witness that matters so…debatable.” Louis counters, brow furrowed.

“Are you going to be bitter about this forever?”

“Oh, I don’t know Liam? Are you going to be secretly married to Zayn forever?” Louis sasses back. “God, it’s like finding out there’s no Santa as a kid. Or realizing that the tooth fairy is a sham. All my hopes and dreams shattered just like that.”

“Fuck, you’re dramatic.” Zayn sighs heavily.

“I. Am. _Heartbroken_.” Louis leans over the table and says angrily through his teeth.

“Or…you’re a bit drunk.” Harry consoles, hand on Louis’ back as he rubs calming circles to his spine. “Here babe, have the rest of my drink.”

Louis sits back against Harry and pouts, nursing the rest of Harry’s margarita.  

“If it makes you feel better, our own mothers don’t even know yet.” Liam reveals. “We literally haven’t told anyone. You guys are the first to know.”

“It was kind of like our little secret and that made it more special for us.” Zayn explains. “Are you ever going to forgive us, Lou?”

“No.” Louis snaps, deep, petulant frown still wrinkling his features.

“How about tomorrow when you’re sober?” Liam asks.

“I don’t know…” Louis answers slowly. “But right now, I don’t like either of you very much.”

“But you still love us.”

Louis pauses for a long time, still not giving either of them eye contact. “…Maybe.”

“I think that’s as good as it’s gonna get.” Niall states. “He’s useless when he’s drunk. You might as well be arguing with a child.”

“I’m not that drunk.” Louis disputes as he considers Liam and Zayn for a moment, sitting up again. “…Are you happy?”

“So happy.” Zayn smiles impossible wide, glancing at Liam as he intertwines their fingers. Liam gives him the same look of utter bliss and watching them, as happy as they clearly are in married life, Louis can’t stay mad at them, even in his drunken state.

“Fine then, I still love you and I’m happy for you.” Louis tells them finally, although he still hasn’t really fixed his face.

“Aww thank you, Lou.” Liam beams, he hates when people are in any way upset with him.

“But I’d also like you to consider getting a divorce, so you can get remarried and I can be there.”

“Oh, Louis.” Zayn sighs though a fond smile.

 

||✚||

 

Harry was tempted to call and make sure that Louis wasn’t in surgery before showing up to SSMC dressed in pristine navy blue scrubs. But Louis clearly explained time and time again that if he found out that Harry had cheated and asked about his schedule, he would completely disqualify him from ever living out his booty call.

So Harry took a chance and trusted his gut and now he is leaning over the nurses station, waiting to see if Louis will answer the page he just had a nurse send to him. She actually believed him when he told her that he worked here, which Harry got a real kick out of. But after ten minutes of waiting, out strolls his beautiful Louis from the elevator doors like an angel sent from above.

“Yes!” Harry fist pumps excitedly. “I knew you’d be free right now. God, I know you _so_ well.”

Louis doesn’t even seem to notice Harry’s gloating, otherwise he’d probably have some kind of smartass remark. Instead all he seems to be able to do is stare lustfully at Harry in his new outfit. “Fuck, you look good in scrubs.”

“You think so, babe?” Harry models them a bit, hand on his hip, purposely sticking his bum out further than necessary.

“Yes, let’s go.” Louis doesn’t waste any more time, tugging his hand urgently, now on a mission.

“Aren’t you busy doing…something? Anything?” Harry wonders, sliding in another gloating remark.

“No, I’d much rather be busy doing you.” Louis throws back.

Harry smirks happily. “See, aren’t you glad on-call rooms exist now? You’re welcome. Let this be a lesson learned.”

“It’s not like you invented them, Harry.”

“No, but it was through my genius that we have the momentous opportunity to consummate our relationship in an on-call room. So again, I say, you’re welcome.” Harry dramatically performs an ostentatious bow, complete with a curtsy.

“You are so ridiculous, it’s confusing how turned on I am right now.” Louis grins at him.

“It’s the navy scrubs, I told you. They’re magical.” Harry whispers like it’s some kind of urban legend.

Louis links their fingers together. “Come on, we’ve got to go before Niall sees you.”

“Why would that matter?”

“Let’s just say I’ve made my on-call room opinions very clear, and I’m jeopardizing my reputation by having you here right now.”

“Aww, risking it all for me.” Harry smiles, tilting his head.

“Always. Especially when you’re dressed like that.”

They make it down the hallway, Louis practically dragging Harry in the direction of the nearest on-call room. But then he stops suddenly as a group of newbie doctors turn the corner.

“Oh shit—there’s a handful of new interns starting today.” Louis realizes, sighing to himself. “They usually start in the late summer, but we are getting a transfer group from another hospital—fuck, I completely forgot. I just got an email about it too. Quick, turn around and let’s go the other way before they try to suck up to me.”

Harry gives him a confused look. “What’s so bad about that?”

“I don’t have time for it right now, that’s what’s so bad!” Louis explains, starting to pull Harry back down the hallway they just came from. “I want to spend my free time locked in a room with you, not holding some nervous intern’s hand on their first day here.”

“Dr. Tomlinson!”

“Ignore them, just keep walking.” Louis says, speed walking almost to the point of a jog as Harry follows behind him.

“Louis, that seems so mean.” Harry slows down, looking over his shoulder at the interns approaching them. “What if they need your help?”

“They don’t, I promise you, they don’t. I’ve been them, Harry. They only want to impress me, so I’ll pick them for their first surgeries. If they need help, they have a chief resident for that.”

“I don’t know, Lou? Maybe you should just say hi to them?” Harry stops walking completely. “It would be nice.”

“Harry no! _Harry_!” Louis hisses, still attempting to goad Harry into following him. But it’s too late because the eager gang of interns have already caught up with them.

“You’re Dr. Tomlinson, right?”

And the way that Louis can somehow maneuver his face from utterly pissed to mildly annoyed to professionally pleasant in the span of a single second completely astounds Harry. “Yes. Hello.” 

“Dr. Tomlinson, it’s such a huge honor.” One of them say, nearly tripping over himself to shake Louis’ hand.

“I think you’re so brilliant—I practically memorized the last study you published.” The next one blurts, sounding nervous and talking abnormally fast. “The way you used the virulence susceptibility of the tumor against itself to treat that inoperable astrocytoma was incredible. How did you derive the steps of that procedure?”

“Thank you.” Louis nods with a pleasant smile. “I’m in charge of your skills lab tomorrow, so we can discuss it at length then.”

“Are you another one of our attendings?” One of the interns addresses Harry curiously, noting his navy blue attending scrubs. “I didn’t see your picture on the faculty staff listing.”

“Oh, he’s just a visitor um…he doesn’t work here—he’s just um consulting…for uh...me…” Louis lies terribly, but thankfully the interns seem none the wiser.

“I’m Dr. Styles.” Harry gives them a charming dimpled smile as Louis gives him a look that perfectly conveys the words, “ _what the fuck?_ ” 

“Are you a neurosurgeon like Dr. Tomlinson or—”

“You know what?” Louis interrupts, already taking a few steps backwards. “Dr. Styles and I have some _really_ urgent matters to attend to, so if you could just excuse us, thanks.”

“Oh, ok! Bye Dr. Tomlinson! Bye Dr. Styles!”

“I fucking told you so.” Louis grumbles as they turn the hall corner. “The years may pass but interns are always the same: suck ups.”

“Well I liked them.” Harry decides. “They seem nice. And they adore you. I can’t believe they actually believed me. You know, that’s the second time today I’ve gotten someone to believe I’m a doctor.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “You know impersonating a medical doctor is a crime?”

“Oh, I’m such a bad, bad boy. Are you going to tell on me?”

Louis laughs, grinning widely. “As long as you don’t go around practicing on people.”

Harry leans in, dipping down to whisper lowly in Louis’ ear. “Can I practice on you?”

“Thirty-three years old and you really wanna play doctor. Amazing.”

“Let me have this.” Harry pleads through his teeth.

“So, you want me to be that slutty patient lusting after my hot doctor?”

“Yes.” Harry nods.

“I think I can manage that.” Louis grins tugging Harry into the room.

Louis locks the door behind them, shedding off his lab coat before pressing Harry’s back right up against the wood of the door.

“Oh god, Dr. Styles you’re so hot…” Louis leans up and groans right to Harry’s ear, sounding needy and breathless as he licks over his lips slowly. “What kind of doctor are you?”

“Hearts.” Harry decides after a beat, unable to decide or land on a specialty. “…I’m a heart doctor…Yes…”

“Hearts as in…cardio thor—”

“Cardio thoracic, exactly—that’s _exactly_ what I said.” Harry smiles, nodding easily.

Louis starts snickering, dropping his head down.

“Louis, stop laughing, you’re ruining it.”

Louis smiles fondly. “You’re just so adorable. I love it.”

“I’m not adorable, I’m your hot doctor, remember?”

Louis laughs even more. He may have just realized that it’s far more fun for him to make fun of everything than to take this even mildly seriously. Harry sort of figured it would happen eventually, but not that quickly. Doctors do make the worst patients after all.

“Lou!” Harry urges seriously. “Be my slutty patient! Please!” 

“Well if I’m your patient, you have to tell me what to do, love.”

“Ok…” Harry nods, considering for a moment. “Lie down and take off your shirt.”

Louis follows directions easily, lying back against the narrow bed, shirtless on his side, staring intently at Harry. Harry sits on the bed next to him, resting his palm down on Louis’ lower abs. Harry’s fingers gradually move south from his naval along Louis’ happy trail, inching towards his waistband.

“I don’t think this is covered by my insurance.” Louis comments with a smirk.

Harry sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Why are you like this.”

“Ok, I’m _sorry._ It’s just so funny.” Louis giggles incessantly to himself.

“It’s not supposed to be funny.” Harry reminds, furrowing his brows together.

“Ok, I’m sorry, baby. Seriously, seriously. Let me get back into it, I’ll do better.” Louis promises sitting up to take Harry’s hand, before seeming to realize something “Wait, wait, wait a fucking minute. Why are you not a urologist or something? What kind of cardio doctor needs to touch my junk? All these years of medical training and I had no idea my heart was always in my dick. The more you know.”

Harry just looks at him flatly, unamused.

“Ok, I’m sorry, I won’t say anything else. If that’s the kind of medicine you practice, then so be it.” Louis reframes himself, leaning in closer to trailing a seductive finger along Harry’s inner thigh, starting from his knee. “Ooh Dr. Styles, I just…I need you _so_ bad...”

Harry eyes him, wondering if he’s actually going to be serious this time. “What do you need?”

“I need help with my…” Louis pauses breathily, jaw falling slightly slack.  “Pacemaker.”

“ _Pacemaker_!?” Harry bursts in disbelief. “What are you 65?”

“Fuck that, I’m 83 and I’m killing the game at the retirement home. Are you an ageist doctor? I’m gonna leave a one-star Yelp review if I can figure out how to log on to my computer.”

 Harry frowns in complete offense. “You are literally ruining my doctor role.” 

Louis is cackling yet again, finding himself so amusing. “Well what else am I supposed to say? It’s not my fault you chose cardio.”

“Louis, it is not that deep!” Harry tries, growing exasperated.

“But it is, H. Like it’s the details that make it work, you know?” Louis explains, still chuckling. “It’s just not believable.”

 _“God_. You’re the worst.” Harry sighs heavily, casting his head back. “Why can’t you just shut up and tell me where it hurts.”

But that only has Louis busting up laughing again, falling over on the bed. “Harry, you’re _killing_ me.”

Harry mopes, watching Louis laugh. “I’m supposed to be saving you!” 

“That corny porno line. Tell me where it hurts.” Louis cackles even harder as he repeats it, practically wheezing as he clutches at his sides. “I can’t breathe, it’s so fucking hilarious. How are you not laughing right now?”

Harry swats Louis’ bare side, frowning deeply. “It’s not fucking funny!”

“Ok, ok you know what, I’m just gonna play along, ok? For you. I’m serious this time. I swear to god.” Louis tries again, still biting down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing again, although is voice is wavering on the verge of a laugh. “Ask me again.”

“No. I’m over it.” Harry huffs, arms crossed over his chest.

“Do it Harry, please. I want you to.” Louis smiles dumbly, trying to school his face into something serious.

Harry sighs for the millionth time, regretting it before he even says it. “…Tell me where it hurts.”

“Ooh, it hurts everywhere Dr. Styles, but you’re only qualified to fix my heart.” Louis moans out.

“ _Stop_ it!” Harry pouts.

With that Louis takes hold of Harry’s hand and places it on his naked chest, right over his heart. “Ooh— _god_.” Louis groans loudly, closing his eyes and moaning as if just the magical touch of Harry’s hand to his heart is so erotic and stimulating.  

“You are so hateful.” Harry tries to yank his hand away, but Louis holds it firmly to his bare chest.

Louis continues moaning, squirming around on the bed as though he’s on the verge of orgasm. And the worst part is that all his moans sound alarmingly genuine. “Right there—yes, yes, yes, _yesss!”_  He chants obscenely, banging his free hand against the wall for no good reason at all.

“Fuck you Louis, I wanna go home.”

“Oh god, it’s so _good_!” Louis throws his head all the way back and screams in the most ludicrous and offensive way possible. “Fuck, you’re amazing!”

“I hate that it sounds like we’re having really hot sex in here, but it’s really just you being fucking rude all by yourself.” Harry sighs, watching his boyfriend flatly. “A waste, honestly.”

But then Louis takes Harry completely by surprise as he sits up abruptly, sliding his body completely off of the bed to kneel between Harry’s legs. He doesn’t waste another second as he unties Harry’s scrub bottoms, yanking them off along with his boxers in one smooth motion to expose Harry’s cock, which is surprisingly half-hard from listening to Louis moan for the last five minutes.

And then he just goes for it, without a warning or a single word, taking Harry’s length completely into his mouth, causing Harry to nearly lose his mind right then and there. The surprise and shock of Louis’ tongue moving in tandem with the hallowed suction of his warm cheeks has Harry already gasping weakly. That mouth of his holds wonderous talents Harry has never otherwise known.

“ _Fuck.”_ Harry hisses as Louis takes him all the way down his throat as though it’s nothing at all. And when Louis slowly looks up at him, darkened blue eyes curtained by long, heavy lashes, Harry just about comes right there on the spot, having to brace himself with both hands against the sheets. But Louis, being the tease that he is, suddenly stops, pulling off of Harry completely.

Just as Harry is about to start begging for Louis’ touch again, Louis pushes Harry back on the bed, seeming to be far from done with him. Louis bunches up Harry’s scrub top to his ribs, sucking a bruise to his left hipbone as he slowly slides a lubed up finger inside Harry.

Harry lets out a deep moan right away, he hadn’t even noticed that Louis had pulled out a packet of lube, far too distracted by everything else he’s doing. Louis lips move tactfully from Harry’s hip to his groin, sucking him off once again. God, it feels so incredible, Louis’ tongue diligently at work as he adds another finger. Harry is panting, nearly whining as he rocks his hips up against Louis’ mouth, feeling his body start to quiver. With the addition of a third finger, Louis hits Harry’s prostate and that’s just about all he can take anymore, eyes fluttering closed as he gasps his release. Louis takes it all, swallowing everything Harry gives him as he gently goads his fingers free of Harry’s hole.

“I promised I’d do that.” Louis smirks, licking his lips and looking utterly proud of himself as he watches Harry attempt to catch his breath on the bed. He leaves a few soft kisses to Harry’s thighs, caressing his skin soothingly as Harry begins to come down from his orgasm. “And you know, I hate breaking promises, love.”

Harry sits up and kisses him hard, both hands holding his face steady. And Louis’ mouth is still salty, he can taste the lingering traces of himself on his tongue. Harry wraps his legs around Louis’ waist, sitting in his lap as he urgently licks into his mouth. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Harry—”

“I know you hate on-call rooms—we agreed not to have sex here, but I need you now…I can’t wait…” Harry whines desperately, mouthing in sloppy, wet patterns along Louis’ neck and he smells so _good_ , it’s intoxicating—Harry just wants to touch him everywhere, fingertips burning with desire. He drops a hand down to grope Louis’ ass, pulling him even closer, practically grinding his nearly naked body against Louis, begging and needy. “Please baby, _please_ I want it...I want you…fuck me, Louis…”

Louis nods frantically, claiming Harry’s lips again with his own and showing just how much he wants Harry too, never strong enough to deny him. Louis slides his hands under Harry’s scrub top, yanking it off his body with enough force to nearly rip it. While Harry gets his hands on Louis’ bottoms, untying the drawstrings as fast as he can to get his hands on Louis’ dick. He’s already ridiculously hard, but Harry still strokes him several times, bringing out a rough groan from Louis.

“Turn over for me, love.” Louis requests, lips pressed to Harry’s jawline.

Harry doesn’t need to be told twice, he untangles his legs from around Louis, turning over to lay flat against the bed on his stomach. He spreads his legs slightly, already fully stretched out from Louis’ fingers earlier. The anticipation is already killing him, he feels so overwhelmed with need and desperation and all he wants is Louis’ cock inside him right the fuck now.

“You have such a pretty back, baby.” Louis hums appreciatively, leaning over Harry from behind, dragging his tongue down the curve of Harry’s spine from the top of his neck to the bottom of his ass and just his touch already has Harry shivering with pleasure. Louis adds more lube to Harry’s entrance, tenderly massaging the cheeks of his ass. “Ready, love?”

“Please Lou…” Harry whimpers, pushing his ass back against Louis, seeking contact.

Louis doesn’t keep him waiting any longer, pressing in right away and it’s everything Harry is craving, so much so that he sighs out in ecstasy, eyes helplessly falling closed. That feeling of having Louis completely filling him up is honestly one of the best feelings in the world and Harry just wants to bask in it. And when Louis starts to move, Harry can’t stop his blissed moans from growing louder and louder with each of Louis’ thrusts. But Harry knows that Louis loves when he gets loud, always getting lost in the sounds he makes for him and only for him.

Harry starts rubbing himself against the sheets, looking for some kind of friction against his almost painful erection. As attentive as he always is, Louis notices right away, sliding a hand under Harry’s torso to lift him up and pull him down into his lap as they sit back as one. Harry’s back is flush against Louis’ chest and Louis adjusts Harry around on top of his lap until he can tell he’s hitting Harry’s sweet spot by the throaty groan that rips out of him.

But once Louis has found it, he pounds up into Harry relentlessly and Harry just about passes out. Louis doesn’t let Harry recover and he reaches in front of them both to stroke Harry’s cock and Harry’s body goes completely limp in Louis’ arms for a second, completely overwhelmed by all the sensations.

Harry adjusts his legs to be able to lift himself up and down, riding Louis. And he drops his head backward weakly to rest against Louis’ shoulder, eyes falling closed as he pants Louis’ name over and over again.

Louis tracks kisses along his neckline, following his protruding vein from his tilted jaw to his pronounced collarbones, one hand on his abdomen, pressing him close, while the other continues to twist around Harry’s length in even motions. Louis’ kisses turn into nips of teeth, leaving a litter of markings on Harry’s smooth skin. Which Harry _loves_ , he loves walking around with the imprint of his love’s mouth on skin, he loves how much it ties him back to Louis.

It’s not long before their bodies are each coated in a layer of sweat, sticking closer together. Louis moves faster, and Harry meets him pace for pace, riding Louis like he was born to do it.

“Come for me, love.” Louis murmurs to his ear and it shoots shockwaves of electricity down Harry’s spine. Louis’ warm hand is stroking him even faster than before, mouthing at his shoulders now. “God, Harry…you’re so gorgeous. You’re perfect…you’re everything.”

“Louis.” Harry moans his name in a gust of weakened breath. Fuck, it feels unbelievable, _Louis_ is unbelievable. Every single time with him is just…unbelievable.

“Yes, baby…you’re so close, I know you are.” Louis encourages in a low voice. “Come.”

And he does, Harry comes with Louis’ name praised from his lips, shooting out hot streaks in Louis’ hand. Louis has such undeniable control over his body, whatever he says is Harry’s command. And they’re so in sync with each other that Louis orgasms right along with him, and the wrecked sound he makes completely tears Harry apart.

They collapse backwards, breathless and boneless on the bed, limbs twisted up together, still connected.  

“How’s that for on-call room sex, Dr. Styles?” Louis grins, arms still draped around Harry’s waist.

Harry laughs weakly, tracing his index finger along the side of Louis’ ribs. “Five-star Yelp review.” 

  

||☤||

 

Louis knocks his knuckles against the open door of The Chief’s office, poking his head through the doorframe to find Steve typing something on his computer. “Is this a bad time?”

Steve adjusts his gaze towards the doorway and smiles welcomingly. “Louis, come in. What can I do for you?”

“Hey, I just came by to drop my reports off.” Louis holds the thick file out to him.

“Oh great, thank you.” Steve places the file in an empty file basket. “You are the first department to be done so far this quarter. Nice work.”

“Is that right?” Louis asks, he has been pretty balanced and organized this quarter.

“Mhmm. Not that your department is ever really late with these things. That’s usually Plastics.” Steve sighs a bit. “Highest revenue overall, but it’s like pulling teeth to get that department to write a damn report.”

“That’s not at all surprising.” Louis laughs.

“No, sadly it’s not.” Steve agrees with a grin. “But thank you for completing yours.”

“Of course.” Louis nods easily, already heading towards the door. He would stay and chat with Steve but he’s short on time tonight. “Alright, well I’ve gotta run.”

“Last minute surgery?”

“Dinner date.” Louis replies, excited. “And I’m cooking, so I have to leave early so that I have time to fuck up a few times before finally perfecting my dish.”

“What are you making?”

“Um…don’t quite know yet, actually.” Louis laughs at himself. “I’m hoping it will come to me on my way to the store.”

Steve chuckles, considering Louis for a moment. “You know it’s actually really nice that I don’t have to physically drag you out of here anymore.”

“You’ve never had to _actually_ drag me out.” Louis scoffs a bit, rolling his eyes.

Steve gives him a flat, knowing look that speaks a thousand words.

Louis shrugs slightly. “Maybe once or twice…”

“You frequently had 100-hour workweeks, Louis. It wasn’t just concerning, it was borderline illegal.”

“Lives were saved, Steve.” Louis sasses back, mildly defensive. “I think there are worse things I could have done with my time.”

“Yeah, yeah, ok.” Steve nods slightly. “What I’m trying to say is that it’s good to see this side of you.”

Louis breaks into a wide smile that he just can’t hide or hold back. “I’m really happy, Steve.”

And it’s true, the past few months have been some of the best in his life. Louis doesn’t think he’s ever been happier.

“I know.” Steve smiles back genuinely, the look in his eyes so proud. Louis has always looked up to Steve, admiring him since he started here as an intern. Steve has really seen some of his lowest points and knowing that he now sees a change in Louis, a positive change, a change he’s proud of, means a good deal to Louis. “And no one deserves it more than you.”

“Thanks, Chief.” Louis bows his head, touched and heart-warmed.

“Be sure to tell the family I said hello.”

“Will do.”

||☤||

 

“What are you working on, little love?” Louis comes to sit down next to Avery at the dining room table. She’s practically covered every clear inch of space with craft supplies from construction paper to glitter to stickers to markers and crayons.

“My project for family day at school.” Avery reveals, looking very focused on placing a silver star sticker exactly right on her mural.

“Ooh, sounds pretty cool.” Louis nods, resting his elbow on the table and tucking his chin under his palm. “You wanna tell me more about it? Or do you need any help? Or am I just bothering you?”

Avery lifts her gaze up to him and laughs, shaking her head. “You’re never bothering me, Louis. I don’t need any help, but you could sit with me and keep my company and I’ll tell you about it.”

“I’d love to, Aves. Tell me everything there is to know.”

“Ok. Well at school we had to make a mural that represents our family.” Avery starts, working as she talks. “So I made mine into stars, like a constellation. At first, I was kinda nervous because…well…because I never really knew much about my family. But now I know.”

“You do?” Louis asks, watching her closely.

Avery nods proudly, she’s playing absently with the gold necklace her mother left for her. She never ever takes it off, just like she never takes off the charm bracelet Louis got her for her birthday.

“So the big gold glittery one is me. And this big green one is for Daddy.” Avery carefully touches each one along the poster. “And the big blue one is for you, Louis.”

Louis heart flutters as it always does when Avery in any way refers to him as her main family. He smiles widely as he looks at it, his blue star sat right next to her gold one.  

“And then these colorful ones out here are for Uncle Niall and Uncle Liam and Uncle Zayn and Aunt Frankie.” Avery explains, pointing to the rainbow of smaller stars under the three main ones. “And this is Baby LouLou right below me because he’s my godbrother. But he can’t be a _big_ gold star, because I’m the big gold star, but I let him be gold still, just small.”

“Well that was lovely of you.” Louis nods, still studying the gorgeous mural. “What about all of these silver ones at the top?”

“Those are all my angels.” Avery smiles softly, running her fingers along the sliver stars “There’s my mom and your mom and Daddy’s mom—I like to think that they’re all friends…and then all your sisters too and baby Lou’s dad. They’re all up there, but they’re still a part of me. They’re all my family.”

Louis just looks at her, without words. She is such a lovely, beautiful and smart girl. Louis remembers Harry telling him about how Avery hated family days before and how it would always make her so sad, sometimes she got so upset that Harry had to come pick her up from school and take her home. But now she’s confident in who her family is and she’s even able to accept and embrace the parts that she didn’t get to know. There will never be a day when Louis is not in awe of her.

Louis reaches over to rub her back, kissing her temple. “Aves, that’s really beautiful, sweetheart.”

“You like it?” Avery turns to him.

“I adore it. Really, it’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you, Aves.” Louis has his palm cupped to her soft cheeks, looking into her warm honey eyes. “And your family is proud of you too.”

 

||☤||

 

Today is Louis’ birthday, commonly referred to by most as Christmas Eve. But despite the holiday and his birthday, Louis still had to go into work today, though not by choice this year. One of his patients went into critical condition early this morning, requiring an emergency craniotomy and then there were two neuro traumas in The Pit that he stayed to help out with. It was a lot of in and out of the O.R. but thankfully everything went smoothly, and no one died on his watch.

And even though he had to work, all day he’s been reminded of how good of a year he’s had overall, how much has changed since his last birthday. On his last birthday, similar to the ones before it, Louis had hopelessly conceded to the prospect of spending his entire life alone, dedicated solely to his career and nothing else.

But now, Louis is so far removed from that sad version of himself. Life feels so full to him, so rich and wonderfully bright. All those cliché things and sentimental sayings about the beauties of life that Louis once resentfully laughed at, perfectly apply to his current life and he almost doesn’t recognize it. But in a good way. In a phenomenal way. If someone had told him on his last birthday that his life would look like this in a year’s time, Louis probably would have laughed them all the way home or told them to kindly fuck off. And it continuously blows his mind just how many beautiful things he has to be thankful for this holiday season.

When Louis finally gets home from the hospital, Harry meets him right at the front door, as if he’s been waiting for him all day.  

“Hi baby. Happy birthday!” Harry smiles cheerfully, wrapping both his arms around Louis’ waist as he greets his boyfriend with a slow, drawn-out kiss. “I really hate that I’m just now getting to say that to you in person and it’s 5 p.m.”

After getting paged, Louis had left the house at a little after three A.M. this morning, only having time to kiss a very sleepy version of his boyfriend goodbye. Although Harry sent tons of messages all day long that Louis would read in between all the chaos. And he even sent a huge bouquet of beautiful flowers that made everyone who saw them jealous.

Louis leans in to kiss Harry again, not nearly having enough of that. “It’s alright, I’m just happy to see you.”

“Mmm.” Harry hums against his lips happily, pulling Louis closer with his arms curled around his lower back.

“Thank you for my flowers, they’re so lovely.” Louis tucks a lock of Harry’s hair behind his ear. “Everyone was trying to steal them.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t actually get them, because you had back to back surgeries all day. But I’m glad you liked them.”

“I loved them.” Louis presses his lips to Harry’s again and honestly if all he did for the rest of his birthday was make out with Harry, he’d be more than happy. “It smells really good in here, by the way.”

“Oh, Avery and I spent the entire day baking and cooking for tonight and tomorrow.” Harry explains easily.

“Ooh? Tell me more. I’m _starving_.” Louis starts walking towards the kitchen, leaving the front foyer of the house.

Harry grabs his hand and tugs him back towards the door. “Later, let’s go on a walk.”

“A walk? Right now?” Louis frowns but still follows after Harry.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Because I’m starving and it’s cold outside.”

Harry hands Louis a heavy coat from the rack. “Here’s a coat and I promise we can eat when we come back.”

“But…what about Avery?” Louis asks next. “Where is she?”

“She’s taking a nap, all that baking completely tired her out.” Harry answers. “And I promised that we wouldn’t eat anything without her.”

“Alright, I guess.” Louis shrugs the coat on, sliding it over the thin jacket he’s already wearing. “Let’s go on a walk.”

Harry smiles, linking his hands with Louis' as he leads them outside to the winter air. And they walk for all of five minutes before Louis can’t help but start complaining about the blistering weather. Well, it’s not _actually_ blistering, it’s Seattle after all. But to Louis, when it’s winter, it might as well be Siberia.

“Harry, it’s too cold to be up here, I’m fucking freezing.” Louis curls himself closer to Harry, both arms tucked around his waist under the layered warmth of his coat. His own layers just aren’t doing as good of a job warming him up as his boyfriend does. “If I can see my own breath, it’s too cold to be outside. When I agreed to go on a walk with you, I didn’t know you were going to drag me all the way up here.”

“I just want to see how our house is coming along, humor me.” Harry keeps his arms wrapped securely around Louis to keep him warm.

“The contractor said they just laid the foundation. You want to look at a giant slab of concrete?”

“Humor me, please.” Harry repeats with a slight pout, tugging Louis along with him.

“All I do is humor you and look what it’s gotten me.” Louis lifts one of his hands to find his fingers looking paler than ever, nearly blue-tinged. “Frozen fingers and frozen lips to match.”

Harry brings Louis’ chilled fingers to his lips. “Lucky for you, my lips still work.”

Louis grins slowly. “You’re lucky I like you, Styles.”

“The luckiest.”

“I just don’t understand why—” Louis’ words get caught right in his throat as the usually dark path they are walking on illuminates with hundreds of twinkling lights hung from the trees like a canopy of twinkling stars above them. Candle lanterns light up a narrow path through the rest of the forest, curving up the winding road to the open meadow.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GHvsWbC_zX8&list=PLKnQAPuz9qVuR7yXYtGmwZ9-1Ev-Jk3Xs&index=8)

“Happy birthday, Lou.” Harry hugs him from the side, pressing a long, gentle kiss to his temple. It definitely explains why he wasn’t too bothered by Louis missing the majority of Christmas Eve, Harry had work of his own to do.

“H…” Louis gasps without words. He is truly floored, captivated by how stunning and picturesque it all looks. “It’s beautiful…”

“Come on, I want to show you something else.” Harry slips his hand into Louis' and takes his time leading Louis along the candlelit path until they come to the edge of their meadow. But instead of simply seeing that huge slab of concrete, Louis sees the future outline of their house rimmed by warm candlelight.

Louis inhales audibly at the sight of it, suddenly breathless and even more mesmerized. His eyes start to water automatically as he glances back to his boyfriend, grasping his fingers tightly. “Harry…”

Louis can’t even begin to fathom how Harry did all of this today, how long it must have taken him. But it’s so lovely and it’s so thoughtful and definitely the sweetest birthday gesture Louis has ever experienced.

Harry guides him through the rolling grass and onto the smooth foundation that will one day bear the weight of their future home together. They come to stand in the very heart of their home, surrounded by white flickering candles contained by glass jars. Harry turns around to face Louis fully, giving him the softest dimpled smile, the gilded flecks of his gentle green eyes glimmer in the golden candlelight.

“So it’s our very first Christmas together and it’s also your birthday and I didn’t know what I wanted to get you for either but…I knew I wanted it to be special. And I wanted it to last forever…” Harry starts, keeping their fingers twisted up together as he talks.

If Louis thought he was holding his breath before, it's nothing compared to now, his heart is racing to an unsustainable beat and he can only focus on the fact that the man standing before him is nothing but beautiful. God, he’s _glowing_ , radiant and breathtaking and Louis is left a besotted, enamored mess.

“I kept thinking about where I wanted to take you, I even considered our bench at the hospital where we first met but…I don’t know…like you always say, there’s something about being here. This is the only place in the world that I would ever dream of saying this to you, the only place that really makes sense. I think the story of us goes on so many winding paths, but really it all started and meets back up right here.” Harry awes quietly as he looks around once more, something so reminiscently calm falling over his features. “I cried with you here. I grieved with you here. I shared secrets with you here. I danced with you here. I laughed with you here. I’ve kissed you here. I fell in love with you here…I even made love to you right _here_.” He whispers affectionately, lips ghosting over Louis’, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. “This is our sanctuary, our secret. And now we’re building a home here.”

Louis presses their foreheads together, a hand coming up to rest on Harry’s neck. He can feel Harry’s pulse racing under his palm and Louis feels like he’s holding his breath waiting to hear what’s about to come next out of Harry’s mouth.

“Louis, you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known.” Harry professes in passion, saltwater already starting to pool under his eyes. “I met you before I knew how to love you, before I even knew what it meant to love you. But…you showed me what real love looks like and you gave me the strength to embrace the darkest parts of myself. The way that you love me is raw and sacrificing and gentle and k-kind and—” He exhales as the tears spill over, shaking his head almost as though he’s at a loss for words. “No one has _e-ever_ loved me or cared about me like you do...”

Everything inside of Louis is at a standstill, transfixed and spellbound. Harry speaks directly to the silence of his stuttered heart, calling out to every emotion Louis has ever felt and individually magnifying each one by an illimitable factor.

“A-And with all that you love me, I love you that much more. I swear I do, I love you more and more every minute, Louis…and I hope you feel that. God, I hope you that feel as loved as you make me feel every time you look at me. You give me new meaning every day…we’ve both been through so much, together and apart, and nothing will ever erase that but…the way I feel about you makes life worth living. You make me so _happy_ , baby.” He breathes heavily, smiling through his tears. “Whenever we’re together, I can’t stop smiling and no one makes me laugh like you do and for the longest time I never thought my life could ever be like that, I stopped believing it was possible b-but…that’s how the rest of our life is going to be…you and me laughing and loving each other. I can’t wait to spend my w-whole life dedicated to loving you like you should be loved…” He professes, lips starting to quiver as he grows more teary eyed and breathless. “I need you in my life more than ever, more than I realized, more than I knew or could ever begin to understand. I…I _need_ you, baby.”

Louis can’t take another second of not holding Harry, pulling him completely into his arms, hugging his body so tightly to his own, never wanting to let go again. “I n-need you too. I need you so much...” They stand like that, crying in each other’s arms for several quiet moments, but eventually Harry pulls back, swiping under his eyes to recompose himself.

“I want to ask you something…but I need a little help to do it.” Harry’s voice has gotten far louder than the gentle whisper it just was, causing Louis to pull his eyebrows together in slight confusion. Until out walks a little flower crown adorned princess, shuffling through the grassy field with Benedict in tow. She’s absolutely beautiful in a deep burgundy velvet dress, like a Christmas angel, the warm glim of the candles radiating her face and highlighting the hair of her wavy little bob. She’s holding a sign of some sort, but Louis can’t see what it says because of how she’s purposely holding it.

“Hi!” Avery greets warmly with a dimpled smile, running right over to Louis. “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, my little love.” Louis kneels down to embrace her in a hug, leaving kisses on her cheeks. “What are you doing here, Aves? Aren’t you supposed to be napping?”

“Well I just have something to ask you really quick.” Avery explains, flipping around the sign in her grasp.

 

 _I_ _❤_ _you!!! I_ _❤_ _you with my whole_ _❤_ _!!!_

_Will you make me the happiest girl in the world and officially be my other Dad?_

 

Louis gasps discernably, tears immediately springing to his eyes as he reads the sign, written out in Avery’s own loopy handwriting. It’s colored and decorated so adorably with hearts and smiley faces and flowers all over it. If he wasn’t already kneeling, Louis would probably fall right down to the ground on weak legs.

He looks back up at her and Avery lowers the homemade sign to the grass, lifting her small hands to rest tenderly over his wet cheeks. She searches his eyes before giving him the widest, most beautiful smile Louis has ever seen in the world. “Papa.”

And when Louis hears the word, when he finally hears her call him that, he almost doesn’t believe it, getting choked up right away. His heart is so full of love— it’s all he ever wanted, it’s _everything_. Better than any gift or any tangible thing the world has to offer. He has been wanting to legally adopt Avery for the longest. In every way she feels like his, she always has felt like his. Avery is his daughter.

“ _Aves_ —oh my god...” Louis sobs heavily, both arms circled around her entire back, holding his child near and dear to his heart as he completely breaks down. He can’t even pull himself together long enough to say anything else, but Avery clings to him just as tightly, shedding tears of her own. It clearly means so much to her as well and that realization only makes Louis cry harder.

Avery eventually lets him go and Louis finds the strength to somehow stand back up to his feet, but he nearly falls right over when Harry gets down on one knee in front of him, pulling a ring box out of his pocket.

Louis has both of his hands over his mouth, crying with overwhelmed emotion. His heart is threatening to give out on him, passionately overawed to the point of exhaustion. “H-Harry…”

Harry smiles up at him, a gorgeous fully dimpled smile. His own tears are falling freely as he slowly opens up the black ring box. “So I’m not quite sure if this is skipping a lot of steps or long overdue…but um…tonight will technically be Date 128 for us and I’m not even close to being done wooing you yet, but…um…” He sniffles, using one hand to wipe a few of his own overflowing tears.  “I just know that I’m not losing you a-again…I can’t _ever_ lose you again.”

“And neither can I.” Avery adds at her dad’s side, Benedict sitting at her feet.

“You mean everything to us, Louis. You’re another father to Avery and a foundation to m-me…the missing piece to our family. I’ve loved every single moment of every single day we’ve had together. You give my life so much meaning and I want to spend every moment I have left forever bound to you.”

Louis has tracks of saltwater profusely flowing from his eyes, he can hardly see anymore, he’s sobbing so hard, but in the best possible way.

“Um…it doesn’t have to be now or even a year from now really, but...well I mean maybe sooner would be better or I don’t know…we can keep on going on dates till you’re ready really, that works too. I’ll wait forever…or I mean we could—”

Harry is starting to ramble nervously, and Louis is absolutely breathless and already a complete sodding mess. He touches an affectionate hand to Harry’s cheek, stroking the side of his face softly. “H, just ask me.”

“Do it, Daddy.” Avery bites back her giddy smile, bouncing on her toes next to Harry. 

“O-Ok…” Harry whispers with a nod, smiling tenderly, warm and dimpled. His wet eyes remain trained on the man before him, so much love and adoration pouring from his gaze. “Louis Tomlinson, will you not only make Avery the happiest girl in the world, but also make me the luckiest man in the world and…marry me? Please?”

It’s such a Harry proposal, hopelessly endearing and sweet and Louis is so very much in love with him. “Yes. Yes, yes— _yes.”_ Louis nods emotionally and Harry happily surges up from bended knee to meld their lips together.

“Oh, thank god—the concrete was really killing my knees.” Harry lifts Louis up and against him as they fervently kiss each other.

“I love you.” Louis laughs wetly to his lips and they’re a true mess of tears and joy and love and everything in between. “Harry, I love you so much.”

Harry sets Louis back down and slips the ring onto Louis’ left ring finger which causes Avery to squeal happily, clapping her hands. Harry bends down to pick her up next and she wraps one arm around each of her dads.

Avery smiles brightly. “Now I’ll always be your Aves.”

“You always were, my love.” Louis whispers gently against her cheek. He’s got one arm held tight around his fiancé’s waist and the other holding his daughter’s hand in his own. And nothing, absolutely nothing could be more perfect.

 _“You always were_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i’d like to think that they live out a beautiful life together, getting married, moving into their house and expanding their family. they’ll eventually have the four kids like Harry always wanted. Avery saw the last of her cancer battles and she grows up to be a doctor to save lives just like her papa :’) let us all gather and cry together once more :'))
> 
> again thank you all for reading this LONG story. I can't believe how long it ended up being. I planned 120k TOPS but yeah here we are and im a fool. 
> 
> love always, your favorite avocado, 
> 
> lex . x :'))


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